The Tangling Dilemma
by zanthia122
Summary: Ch.6 The Wizarding World is moving on after the final battle, but Ginny is not. How can she? Draco, the love of her life, is missing. The only place she can find peace is not her room, or the library; it is the greenhouse... DM;GW;NL love triangle. R&R!
1. Prologue

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Prologue

Returning ravens crowed against the draping sky, as though they had been burnt by the orange clouds, which stretched into different purples to the end of the heavens. A last ray shone into the dormitory, struggled across the polished wooden floor and pushed through the crack of closed curtains. A small frame sat cross-legged on the bed, a plain box in front of her.

Taking a piece of paper cautiously from the box, she squinted in the dim light. It felt incredibly fragile in her hand, the note he slipped her a year ago. The ink had started to blur, like her memory of their first encounter, which was now on the brink of disappearing beneath many other thoughts she had in mind, to be sealed and lost forever. She would not like that to happen, the same way she would not like any memory concerning him to, but that was not exactly a pleasant moment and her soul willed to forget the animosity that once prevailed between them.

"Ginevra Weasley, or as you may prefer, Ginny," she began to read.

_Ginevra Weasley, or as you may prefer, Ginny,_

_ "White bee, you buzz in my soul, drunk with honey,  
_ _and your flight winds in slow spirals of smoke._

_ "I am the one without hope, the word without echoes,  
_ _he who lost everything and he who had everything._

_ "Last hawser, in you creaks my last longing.  
In my barren land you are the final rose._

_ "Ah you who are silent!_

_ "Let your deep eyes close. There the night flutters.  
Ah your body, a frightened statue, naked._

_ "You have deep eyes in which the night flails.  
Cool arms of flowers and a lap of rose._

_ "Your breasts seem like white snails.  
A butterfly of shadow has come to sleep on your belly._

_ "Ah you who are silent!_

_ "Here is the solitude from which you are absent.  
It is raining. The sea wind is hunting stray gulls._

_ "The water walks barefoot in the wet streets.  
From that tree the leaves complain as though they were sick._

_ "White bee, even when you are gone you buzz in my soul  
You live again in time, slender and silent._

_ "Ah you who are silent!" _

_ White Bee, Pablo Neruda_

The same fluttering rose in her stomach. This was the first note from him that she actually read, not tore apart. He had written this during Potions, he once told her, and had no time to put it in an envelop properly. Which is probably a good thing, she replied, because she would have thrown it away if not for the poem catching her eye. So many had changed since then.

A bell rang in the distance, indicating Dinner time. She snapped out of reverie, stood up and ungraciously yawned before getting down to the Great Hall.

----------

The Great Hall was very much the same every night. The long tables moaned under the weight of all the scrumptious dishes, students chatting noisily, endlessly about the day's events and the latest rumors, blissful for another exciting yet tiring day ended. Ginny took a lungful of the luscious, tempting smell of the food at the door, and her stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Hungry?" A familiar voice whispers into her unexpecting ears. Her knees wobbled and she fell back into a pair of arms, which caught her easily. She heard a low chuckle from above. Blushing furiously, she stood up.

"That's not funny," she scolded shakily.

He didn't say anything but merely raised an eyebrow at her. His pointy face was cold, but amusement was evident in his silver eyes. She sighed inwardly.

"And I missed you, too," he said finally. "Meet me after dinner, okay?" Without waiting for her nod, he turned his heels toward the Slytherin table.

Ginny walked over to her usual place. Everyone was there and no doubt half of them had witnessed what happened. She sat down and threw a warning glare. The Griffindors got the clue and returned hastily to their food and conversation. Well, some did.

"That's sweet Ginny," Hermione smiled across the table, ignoring her friend's scowl.

"Oww what w- Oh. Yeah, Ginny." Ron agreed with a pained expression. Ginny strongly suspected Hermione, Ron's girlfriend since last year, kicked him square in the shin under the table. She laughed at his face and turned back to her fish and chips. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry frowned, but pointedly ignored him.

He had taken the news that Ginny and Draco Malfoy, his arch enemy, were a couple very hard. He screamed at her the night she announced that they were officially together. He screamed and shouted and eventually, begged, claiming that he was in love with her since the end of his fifth year, that he could give her everything, things that Malfoy could never give. Her heart broke at first seeing him, her idol and crush for so many years, cry. There was some evil satisfaction- who wouldn't when their past crush begged for them?- and berated herself for it, but that fleet sensation was nothing compared to the pain his scathing words brought. Gradually, with the help of Draco and Hermione, her forever faithful friend, she managed to recover and ignored Harry, who grew more and more bitter and resentful every day.

She shook her head, making her red curls jump and gleam in the candle light. She was contented with her life now: she was top in her year, a player on the Quidditch team, a popular figure among the girls, had a nice, if not a bit over-protective family, and a boyfriend whom she would love to spend the rest of her life with. What else can a girl hope for?

_Nothing, really._ She stood up from the table, smiling and saying 'See you later's to her friends.

-----------

Draco watched as his girlfriend stood up from her table, and got up as well. Crabbe and Goyle moved to follow, but he gave them an icy glare that pinned them to their seats, and swept out of the Hall.

He found her at the foot of the Grand Staircase. A wind rustled by, and her hair looked even more like flames under the shaking lights. He pulled her closer and covered her with his cloak.

"Better?" He asked the girl whom he had grown to love so dearly.

She emitted a muffled 'Hmmm' and leant even closer to his muscular chest, inhaling his mild aftershave. It was almost unbelievable how much warmth he could radiate, seeing that he was the second coldest person in the castle, right behind Snape.

"I can never have enough of your scent," she said lazily in his arms.

"And I can never hug you enough," he whispered back. Anyone who saw him right now would not have believed their eyes: Is this truly Draco Malfoy? He was holding her tightly, but not too so that Ginny would be uncomfortable. His silver eyes were staying on her face, the cynical edge in them melted and replaced by tender emotion. Even the lines on his face, often hard and carrying a sneer, softened.

Ginny looked at him closely and marveled at his change. He was still the same cold, arrogant Slytherin in many ways, but he was a considerate gentleman to her, and only to her. What could change a person so much? She dared not take credit, but thanked the Almighty for him. He was the piece of missing puzzle, and her life was complete finally.

Their gazes entwined and neither wanted to look away. The outside world fell away, and all that left were themselves. And silence, peaceful, comfy silence. Draco moved to push a stray curl of hair out of her eye. She blinked when his long fingers blushed her eyelashes. He traced his fingers slowly across her face, then cupped it in both hands.

"Ginny," he said, his breath touching her nose.

"Yes?" She could feel her cheeks burning, but didn't look away. In his almost translucent eyes she saw herself, a tiny girl beaming at him, clearly love stricken.

"Come and live with me after you graduate," he drawled lowly, showing none of the nervousness he was feeling inside.

She looked straight into his pupils and saw that he was serious. She flushed even deeper. _Is he doing what I think he is doing? Is he... proposing? _She bit her lip unconsciously, then shyly, nodded. He didn't show his ecstasy, but lowered his head and kissed her on the lips instead. Ginny could feel her legs turning into jelly for the second time of the day, and hung to him like a drowning man would to a log.

The kiss was long, passionate, and perfect. She relished in the feeling his soft lips exploring hers, firmly, yet gently. When they broke apart, both were red in the face and gasping for air. She smiled, then slid her arms around his waist and leaned on his shoulder. He held her in the same way.

"Don't ever, ever leave me, Ginny," he begged in her ear.

"I won't," she said into his robes.

"Promise me, don't leave me; whatever happens, don't leave me," he insisted and hugged her tighter, as if she would vanish into thin air the very second.

"Is there anything wrong?" she asked, puzzled, and pulled away slightly, searching his face.

For a moment Ginny thought she saw a scared, insecure expression on Draco's pale face, one that reminded her of a lost child. But it was gone quickly, and as he shook his head, she wondered whether she had imagined it. He pulled her back and whispered again,

"Just give me your word, my little Flame, never leave me."

She loved it when he called her his little Flame, but this time it had something else to it. She nodded, burying her face in his chest.

"I will never leave you, no matter what happens," she promised.

He lifted her face once more, and kissed her. He seemed more desperate, crushing his lips against hers, and when she couldn't help but moan, his tongue skidded in. She threw her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, his arms the only thing supporting her to stand. Emotion tingled between them, and she could feel a shiver ran down her spine.

Suddenly he pulled back. Looking up, she gasped. He had gone very pallid and was grimacing as if in great pain. A fat drop of sweat rolled down his forehead.

"What's wrong?" She cupped his face and watched him anxiously. "Draco? Draco?"

As abruptly as it had started, it stopped. He forced a smile at her and in a few seconds, he was standing upright again, as though nothing had happened.

"I'm okay, must be the food," he said swiftly. Then glancing at his watch, "I must go."

"Go? Go where?" she asked apprehensively. He patted her hand and smiled again.

"Prefects' meeting," he said and seeing that she was still worried, added, "Don't worry. I will go to Madam Pomfrey after the meeting, okay?"

She nodded rigidly. He lowered his head and kissed her one last time, then swept down the hallway.

Ginny stared at his back longingly with a thousand questions flashing across her mind. The last kiss had lost its magic- there was no love in it.

----------

"Starry night," she muttered dully to the Fat Lady, who elegantly answered, "Indeed it is!" and swung open. Climbing through the entrance, she was greeted by a merrily dancing fire and noisy Griffindors. Staggering lazily, she slumped into the nearest velvet armchair and stared at her housemates working and playing.

"Hey," a voice penetrated through her trance and she snapped up. "What- who are you thinking about?" Hermione grinned and sat in the next chair with a thick book in hand.

Ginny stared. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, this is a Common Room, you know, and-" Hermione started sarcastically, but Ginny was in no mood for sarcasm.

"I mean, what about the prefects' meeting?" She folded her arms. Hermione, as Head Girl, was supposed to attend every prefect's meeting.

"What meeting?" She asked, dumfounded. Ginny looked blankly back at her friend. What meeting?

"I must have been mistaken," she replied, and dragged herself up to the dorm, leaving Hermione by the fire with a pensive look on her face.

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_Dear Diary,_

It was a habit that she had picked up since second year, keeping a diary. She had write in it every night for almost four years now, though it had became something like a 'Ginny & Draco's Memories' as all she wrote about was him since the fateful poem. She dipped her quill into the ink bottle, frowning. It wasn't a nice memory, being betrayed by a diary in second year, and every single time she wrote something in a diary, the memory came back and haunted her in dreams. But with grim determination she started to write,

_Something strange happened today..._

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	2. Clinging on, yet drifting apart

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the HP universe. All I own is the plot, 'Asovil rhizome' and 'Olos sublimate'. I don't even know what those are. They just sound spiffy to me. *shrug*

This story is now dedicated to Noriko M. Chijinu, formerly she-who-must-not-be-named, my first ever reviewer. Without her one review I would never have written so many. Thanks Noriko! *big kiss*

A/N: Sorry! I know I took forever to update. But I hope this chapter is worth the wait! 

**Nessa: **Glad you liked the story. Yeah, English is my second language and so my grammar is not very good. Thanks for telling me the mistake, I've changed it. As for why they are together... that's not the focus of the story. But I will try to insert more of their past in the future.

**dreamgirl: **More suspense for you, hope you like it!

**mikki: **I thought it was quite natural for Harry to be angry if Ginny liked Draco! After all, he was his arch-enemy. But Harry would get over it, for something bigger would be occupying his mind... I am not telling what. Keep reading!

**musical1: **Thanks! I did worry a bit when I first started but then I discovered that many good writers on ff.net aren't native speaker of English too! Liked your story. Keep writing and I'll do the same!

**number1princess: **Thanks! I think the title's nice too. *grin* Well, one tends to think so if she spent 4 hours thinking that up!

**Gwuinivyre: **Here's more for you. But what was happening to Draco? I won't tell yet, but there are hints. Keep reading!

**SamiJo: **She would be getting sadder, I promise. Have some tissue with you!

**jane air: **Pablo Neruda is my favorite poet! Loved his sad poems. And Neville is the second cutest guy (right behind Sevvie) in the series. Hey we have two things in common!

**SugerPop: ***dramatic voice*They would be together in the end... or would they not??? *laugh* Hmm, that line makes authors the top ten most-hated occupations. *run for cover*

**Noriko M. Chijinu: **I take that as you liked the story. Bravo! I mean, what's the point of dedicating it to you if you don't like it? 

**Crystal Star-23: **You've read it nine times? NINE TIMES? Seriously? Aww... you must have noticed every single mistake in the chapter then... hehe. Let's hope there aren't as many in this chapter. 

Cool, 11 reviews in the first chapter! On with the story!

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Chapter 1: Clinging on, yet drifting apart

Something was wrong.

Ginny put down her quill, and looked up at her boyfriend. He was frowning, oblivious to her longing gaze, and flipped a page. She had always loved it when he was all serious and absorbed in work, that way his childish side was replaced by his mature one, as if the sky could just fall onto his shoulders and he would be able to fix it. 

Yes, he would be able to protect her, to solve everything for her, to let her live happily ever after. She watched as Draco pushed a stray strand of blonde hair out of his eyes and remembered the night he asked her to stay with him after graduation. Things had changed since that night. He got more and more busy as the weeks elapsed into March, and Ginny found herself seeing him less, much less to her liking. He would have Quidditch practices and study groups and extra lessons and prefects meetings, and as she herself had similar subjects to deal with, they did seem to drift apart, however imperceptibly. She did not believe that he was cheating on her, but things did seem to deviate... _Or maybe I was just overacting._

But something _was _wrong. She could not describe the feeling, it was small, sometimes insignificant, even. But it was there, like a steel anchor, deeply rooted in the bed of her soul. She shook her head as if it would shake away her worries. 

Draco snapped up. "What's the matter?" 

Ginny shook her head again. Draco read her with a pensive expression, then shrugged. 

"Whatcha reading?" Ginny chirped, but lowered her voice as Madam Pince threw her a warning glare. They were studying in the library, having an entire table to themselves. Most students were not sure what to make of this couple, and stayed away from them. Not that they minded. 

"Just some NEWT materials," he answered swiftly, but a hand slid readily across the ancient cover of the book, hiding the title from Ginny. She did not say anything, but fixed her round eyes on him, puzzled and hoping to find a clue on his pale face. He did not flinch, instead he leaned forward until their faces were a mere inch apart, and their breaths brushed each other's face. She seemed too perplexed to pull back. 

"Draco, this is the library-!" She tried in an urgent whisper. He smirked.

"Believe me, no one's paying us any attention," he breathed onto her face.

Her face flushed into a lovely crimson. "But that's not th-" She was cut short as Draco lifted her chin with one skillful finger and brushed her lips with his. It was a light touch, but the passion it passed onto her was evident. She was almost sorry when he pulled away. He seemed to feel the same, and when he stood up, his face was one with regret.

"I have to go," he explained quite unnecessarily. Ginny remained in her seat but her gaze remained unfaltering on his face, carefully shielding her disappointment and frustration.

He was saying that a lot lately. 'I have to go'.

And she hated it.

"Oh, don't pout, my lil' flame," he swept down and pat her puffed up cheek lovingly. "Let's go down to the Lake tonight."

"Are you sure?" Her eyes brightened and it seemed to sparkle in the afternoon rays that shown through the windows. It had been ages since their last walk, and he knew how much she loved the Lake. He nodded. She let out a small squeal in delight and threw her arms around his neck. "Your the best, Draco!"

"Many have said that to me," he answered smugly and earned himself a nudge in the ribs. 

"Don't you need to prepare for your project or practice Quidditch or something tonight?" Ginny asked, withdrawing herself from him. He kissed her on the cheek.

"All those are nothing when it comes to my girl," he whispered into her ears, straightened up, and marched out of the library, leaving a very red Ginny in her seat.

For a moment she had so blissfully ignored the nagging feeling and just let herself relish in Draco's love that she felt stupid about doubting him for even a second. It was so obvious that they were born to be together- he loved her! She returned to her essay with a small smile playing on her lips, but from the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a book.

The book Draco had been reading.

She reached for it. It was a moldy book and looked very old indeed. Surely this was a book from the Restricted Section. Why not? Draco was a prefect and had every right to be in there. Her hand traced itself across the cover, feeling the crude leather under her fingertips. Slowly she reached the title, one that was deeply engraved with gold.

'Centum Acerbus Praenuntius Sceleratus' She read softly. It was Latin meaning 'The Hundred Dark Omens and Blood'. She frowned.

Since when did NEWT require the study of ancient Dark Magic?

----------

"Hi Ginny," Harry greeted her with a smile. He looked happier than he did in days. She smiled back.

"Hello Harry," she took her usual seat beside Hermione, who was reading a thick book propped against a jar of lemonade. "Hello 'Mione."

Hermione grunted in response. Ginny snatched her book away.

"Hey!" The older witch protested.

"It's not good for your digestive system," Ginny clucked her tongue. Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again and sighed.

"So, how's your day?" Harry asked while Ginny helped herself with delicious looking steaks and mashed potatoes.

"Well, it was fine I guess," she answered, appreciating his effort in starting a conversation. "Save for my last lesson. I somehow managed to drop my Asovil rhizome and it was damaged and Sprout got five points from Griffindor."

"Herbology?" Hermione glanced up from her plate. "Did you see Neville?"

"Yes, why?"

Hermione turned back to her fish fillet. "It's nothing. Just- oh well, I want to ask him about the Olos sublimate," she admitted. 

"He's always in that greenhouse, isn't he?" Ron said, munching on a piece of broccoli. 

"Better than spending all his time on the Quidditch pitch," Hermione snapped and Ron grinned sheepishly.

Ginny looked at the pair and smiled. She was feeling very warm and cozy. Drifting away from the conversation, she searched for a familiar blonde head. Up and down the Slytherin table she looked, but no. He was not in the Great Hall.

_Where is he? _She wondered fleetingly before standing up. Maybe he had went to the lake already. _Well, better not keep him waiting._

"Where're you goin'?" Ron asked over his plate of pudding. She looked back and flashed him a mysterious smile, then walked out of the hall.

"What was that supposed to mean?" He inquired to nobody in particular with a dumbfounded expression. Hermione chuckled without taking her eyes off the thick book she set up again. "Just eat your desert, Ron."

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This was a dark night.

Ginny noted as she slowly walked towards the old pine tree. _Their _old pine tree. There were not any stars, and the moon was eerily glowing against the seemingly endless pitch black sky. A wisp of ghostly cloud floated past, and the world was wrapped in darkness once again.

A piece of twig snapped under her shoe. The noise bounced off branches and echoed deeper into the forest. Ginny tried very hard not to jump. She placed another careful foot onto the ground but the pine needles moaned nevertheless. She gulped, reached her hands out and fumbled her way to the tree. It was an ancient tree indeed, and its trunk was as thick as a giant's thigh. She slumped against it and took in a fresh lungful of air. 

It was cold and familiar. She relaxed a hair. 

Draco was not here yet. She glanced at her surroundings but could make out little. The friendly place in the morning, when sunrays merrily shone through the leaves and made dancing shadows across the meadow, was beyond creepy tonight. The tree seemed to be circled by hundreds of tunnels, each leading to a strange and deadly place. Winds crept by and exchanged whispers, ruffling the bushes. She fixed her eyes on the only thing she could see, the Great Lake, trying hard to stay and not flee. 

But even the Lake was lifeless. It was beautiful, flickering sliver moonlight off its surface. It seemed that the Giant Squid, and even the mermaids were asleep, as not a ripple had creased this mirror. But the more peaceful it looked, the more dangerous it was. Ginny forced down another urge to bolt as she thought of all the cunning, hungry creatures lurking under the pool of liquid steel.

_Where is Draco? _

How long had she been waiting? It seemed to her an eternity. She wrapped her arms around herself, willing shudders and time to pass. The night grew steadily darker, but she dared not light her wand. What if it looked like prey to whatever was prying among the trees?

_*Rustle*._

What was that? She stood straighter in alarm and reached for her wand. Her palm was sweating so profusely that she feared the wand might slip. _Please, God, please let it be Draco._

_ *Rustle rustle rustle*._

The disturbance had not ceased inspite of her prayer. In fact, it grew louder and louder and was heading towards her. She looked at the direction of the noise, the hoarse sound like someone shaking a canful of sand. 

"Draco?" Her voice was shaky and filled with unspeakable dread. "Is that you, Draco?"

A sudden gust whirled past, in between flying robes and wild hair, she saw the silhouettes of raving bushes. Whether they were shaking like mad because of the wind or some unknown beast, Ginny dared not think about. 

"Draco?" She pleaded again into the hellish darkness, helplessly, knowing that her voice was drowned in the relentlessly strong wind. It gave her no answer.

_*Rustle rustle...*_

It's Draco. It's Draco. Oh _please_ let that be you, Draco.

_ *Rustle rustle rustle...*_

Draco. Draco. Draco!

_*Rustlerustlerustlerustle*_

"DRACO!" She let out a sharp shriek when a tall shadow stood up in front of her. Her wand fell onto the damp ground.

"Relax! Relax Ginny! It's only me," the shadow grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. She stopped screaming but felt a tear rolled down to her neck.

"What are you doing to her?" Another icy voice interjected.

----------

The sky was still starless and blue. The wind had died down and the leaves, panting slightly, finally settled.

Neville let go of Ginny, and tightened his fingers around the glowing moon leaves in his hand, as if to strangle them.

"Ginny, Malfoy," he addressed them quietly, taking a step back and hiding himself in the shade of pines.

"Longbottom," Draco spat the name like it was a curse. Ginny's pupils returned to their normal sizes as she retreated to his side, gasping. Instinctively he took her hand and stepped in front of her. She squeezed his hand.

"Neville, what are you doing here at this time of the night?" Ginny asked, her voice notably calmer. She could see Draco's back going rigid at her saying the other boy's name.

The moon trod from behind the clouds and showered the three of them in silver light. Neville was even paler than usual. "Just picking some moon leaves- nocturnal plants, you know-" He showed them his handful of purple leaves.

They stood in silence for a moment as the breeze started to get restless again. Ginny shivered.

"If you don't mind, Longbottom," Draco said in a waspish tone and drew her closer. Ginny felt herself going red in the face but did not object his move.

Neville lowered his head as though moon leaves had suddenly bloomed by his shoe. "Of course, of course." He said lowly and scurried back into the bushes.

As his rustlings grew distant, the moon hid herself once more, shyly, and left the couple by the Lake in the dark.

----------

She had so many to ask, but it seemed silly to talk when she could not even see him. Their queer silence span longer into the night. The wind caressed her skin, and she shuddered involuntarily.

Suddenly she found herself in a bone-crushing embrace. His arms circled around her and pressed her to his heaving chest, with such force that she wondered for a second- would her waist snap?- before being enveloped by his scent completely and deprived of the ability to think. She inhaled greedily and felt him do the same in her neck.

It felt good to be in his hug again, like she was the most precious thing to him, like she was the luckiest girl in the whole wide world. And in a sense, she knew she was.

"Prefects' meeting?" She mumbled into his robes.

He pulled back, but his arms were still resting on her waist, reluctant to let go. Though she could not see his face, she felt his lingering, piercing eyes trying to penetrate through the darkness into hers.

A gigantic owl swept across the sky, graciously and almost unnoticeably towards Hogwarts. She felt his gaze leaving and following the creature. His arms tightened.

She decided that she did not need an answer. Pulling him closer again, she rested her head on his shoulder. He was a head taller than her, and it was always perfect leaning on him, like she was meant to be there. He placed a hand on her hair and stroked it with touches like cotton. It all felt the same, and she was nearly convinced that nothing had changed since that fateful afternoon. They were under the same tree, he was twirling her ringlets with the same loving fingers, and she was breathing the same after-shave. No time had elapsed. 

_No time had elapsed..._

As if reading her mind, he lifted her chin and traced her face with a finger carefully, from her eyelashes to her nose to her lips to her earlobes, as though he was blind and needed to see and remember her features.

"Beautiful," he whispered into her lips. She clung closer to him.

"I know."

"Perfect."

"I know."

"Forever mine."

"Forever yours," with that she crushed her lips into his, begging for a kiss, and he kissed her back with the same desperation. Both were unaware of the other's crossed fingers behind their backs.

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A/N: I wanted to write more but this seems the perfect line for the chappie to end. So... don't hit me! And I've forgot to mention in the last chapter. Anonymous reviewers please leave your email if you wish to be on the update list. It is very handy. Now please review!!


	3. The time has come

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Chapter 2: The time has come

_Just one more kiss_

_and I'll be gone_

_I won't write _

_I won't call you no more girl_

_I swear that I'll be strong_

Draco woke with a start.

It was not a startling wake, like the kind you got when you were caught in the middle of a nightmare. Instead, it was the kind of wake that you just opened your eyes and looked at the ceiling, knowing exactly where you were, what time it was and what were you supposed to do. Draco stared at the canopy of his four-poster, blinked, and sat up, wasting no time twisting and turning among the sweat-soaked sheets.

He was a very disciplined boy and seldom slept in. But it was rare, even for him, to wake up so readily. With a finger he pushed open the curtains a little and peeked out. The candles had long dwindled to small tads of wax, the window provided no light- it was too late for the moon and too early for the sun to grace the sky with their presences. The dungeon was pitch dark.

He raked the curtains aside roughly, not caring in the least bit that he might disturb his roommates. But then, his roommates consisted of two of the largest pigs Hogwarts ever admitted, and nothing short of a thunder could have disturbed their sleeps. He sat at the brim of his bed, hands clutching the sheets and the warmth that lingered on them. With enormous effort he released his grip on the final, pleasant sensation, and pulled himself from the bed. He gave an involuntary shudder as his bare toes touched the ice-cold stone.

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_Just one more taste of you_

_and I'll be fine_

_Girl, I mean what I say today about tomorrow_

_I know I was lying_

_Cos baby, oh-_

_I only wish you knew_

_how this feeling scares me so_

_It's just like letting, it's just like letting go_

The window also felt icily cold against his forehead.

He had always liked this window. It was charmed to be there, of course, for the dormitories of Slytherin were located at the bottom of the castle, in the dungeons. But the window was charmed to look like the one in the Owlery. Through it he could see the high skies, the top of the swaying pines at the edge of the Forest, and occasionally an owl would fly past. It was such a strange feeling, to touch the glass, to look out as if he were on the top of the castle, while in reality he was at the very bottom of it, and behind the magnificent scenery it was just an ugly wall.

But still he liked the window. He leaned closer to it, breathing a circle of dewy mist onto the glass. It was freezing against his cheek. Hard and freezing. His cheek would probably turn pink soon, but look! It was such a tranquil morning. The trees were still, the winds were still, the skies were still. Not one thing out of place.

Crabbe turned in his bed and murmured something.

Draco found this amusing. Ol' Crabbe, always murmuring under his breath even when he was awake. About food, very likely. In two hours time he would woke up and have breakfast with everyone else in the Great Hall, eating to his heart's content. Content! A blissful word, made for a simple guy like old Crabbe! Draco wanted to laugh, and turned back to his motionless sky in an attempt to suppress the urge.

The sky was not moving at all. Or maybe it was? Like cotton in an overstuffed pillow, the clouds weighed the sky down, pulling it closer to the earth. It was brightening slowly, ever so slowly. The sky turned from navy blue into a milky gray, stretching to the end of Forest into a pearly, almost silver white. However the clouds remained defiantly deep gray, a melancholy kind of color that reminded Draco of his dead grandfather. He used to wear a worn, gray corduroy beret, even when he was struggling to breath on a gigantic bed in St. Mungo's. Yes, the sky did look sick today, and it seemed to Draco that it could not hold its tears any longer.

Tears, lightning, thunderclaps, raging mad winds that rattle windows- he could see it now. And he could picture Ginny's reaction: the moment she got up she would swore furtively at the sky, for she hated lightning bolts. Not the rain, not thunderclaps, but the bolts that struck the Hogwarts ground now and then...

He stopped and closed his eyes wearily.

_Ginny._

----------

_And I guess if that's addiction_

_then I guess that I'm addicted_

_and I guess that I'm your junkie, fair enough_

_And I guess if that's addiction_

_then I guess that I'm your junkie_

_and I guess I'm just strung out on your love_

His strength, his power. His reason to be alive.

His weakness.

How could he be so foolish? It's so blatant, so obvious that she was everything to him. So obvious that a troll could have spotted it effortlessly, and this, was saying something.

Draco opened his eyes again. There were always plenty of 'what-would-have-been's, but they rarely worth the misery one had to go through to think about them. There was no point in thinking about her, no point in torturing himself further. Not now anyways. He'd have plenty of time for that later, this he was sure.

_Yeah, right._

Have you ever felt out of control? Feeling powerless even to make the teeniest decision, and the mind just took over and wandered, though you really didn't want it to. That's how Draco felt, with his face pressing against the pane, glancing out through the mist and seeing nothing. It was early. So early in the dawn, even the plants had to be asleep. Complete silence and solitude.

_No one would see. No one would catch you..._

Wrapping his arms around himself and feeling the coldness piercing his cheek, he surrendered to memories.

----------

_Girl I can't sleep in these wet sheets_

_Cos I've got hot flushes, cold sweats_

_And a hunger that's making me weak_

_So hit me up with your best stuff_

He must have a pretty good memory, for he could still see every trivial details on that day, the day some high power up there decided to mess his life up a bit.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon. It was really a very beautiful afternoon, beautiful in a sense that everyone was idly basking in the sun outdoors, too lazy to do anything. He was striding down a long hallway, one that had these gigantic arches leading to the mint-green meadows. He remembered looking across the lawn and to his disgust saw Granger and Weasley kissing under a tree, in the shadows, where they thought no one would see. He snorted.

It bothered him that everyone was having their time outside. Robes in different colors entertaining themselves with various activities in the disturbingly bright sunrays, on the lush-green pasture. He turned away, the sight almost hurt him. _Don't they have anything else better to do? _He wondered. But of course they didn't. He was the only one around with a family and a responsibility, naturally.

_At least I can look forward to having the Common Room all to myself_,he consoled himself, and continued his journey with a sulk on his face.

"I know what the caged bird feels, alas!  
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;  
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,  
And the river flows like a stream of glass;  
When the first bird sings and the first bud opens,  
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals-  
I know what the caged bird feels!"

This helps every single time. Poetry. He was about to cite the second verse when something hit him hard in the midriff.

"Ooof!" He moaned and clutched his stomach with a hand, but managed to stand. Whoever bumped into him was less lucky. Parchments and quills and books were scattered all over the corridor. Quickly he regained his composure and stood straighter, powering up his glare with full Slytherin malice, and directed it at the small figure on the floor.

Oh, he could recall it now. It was a girl who ran into him. She scrambled up with as much dignity as possible, and began to pick up her stuff. Her hair was sticking out at some odd angles, and was wilder than he had ever seen a girl's hair. He stood there and watched her bending and picking up the parchments.

"For Merlin's sakes!" She was exclaiming, out of breath. "As if I am not late enough- oh you frigging piece of paper!" Pulling herself to her tallest, the flying piece of parchment seemed just beyond her hand's reach.

He watched, amused, at the girl tiptoeing and jumping, making her messy red ringlets bounce. Yes, her hair was of a patent Weasley red, and it was gleaming in the afternoon sun. He was torn between amusement and the urge to make a snide remark. Finally, he reached out and easily caught the flying parchment. She snatched it out of his hand.

"Oh thanks so much sweetie," she planted a kiss on his cheek. "I'd have bought you a Butterbeer, but I'm so late for detention-" she called as she ran down the hallway, heels clicking on the stony ground. As the last of her swishing robes disappeared around the corner, he touched his cheek in slow motion.

She had not seen him. Not probably enough to recognize him anyway. For it was wrong, it was almost against the law of nature for a Weasley to kiss a Malfoy. But she did it, and Draco knew it was not some bizarre dream, as the little wet spot simmered under his fingertips.

He stood there for a full three minutes, and when he finally did move, he suddenly realized that he had not taken points off an offending Griffindor, not even a scathing comment. And Merlin knows, that's against the law of nature, too.

----------

_All I need is a dime bag of attention_

_And maybe an ounce of your trust_

_Cos letting go is harder than you know_

_I'm tearing out my heart_

_To give my heart to you_

_As you walk right out of view_

That was in his fifth year. Two years ago. The year that the Dark Lord arose again, and his father was flung into Askaban. Fate had decided to place a little joke in his life that year. She would not have kissed him if Crabbe and Goyle were with him that afternoon. They would have exchanged insults, and everything would have been different. Not fine, but different.

Since that encounter he became more aware of Virginia Weasley. He was surprised at his blindness before- this girl was practically transforming in front of his eyes, like a butterfly struggling out from her worn, paper-brown cocoon. She was no longer tagging along with Potter and Granger and her own brother, but was often found to be by her own. She was changing indeed, and was barely recognizable as the tiny girl bursting in fury when he insulted her precious Potter in his second year. She soared gracefully on her own, he remembered, when they were on the Quidditch pitch. He wished to track her, catch her, follow her into the sun.

He did not catch the Snitch in that match.

How scared he was during that summer! His father was in Azkaban, his mother crying her eyes out. Above all, he missed her. It was a terrible, terrible experience. Unimaginable dismay filled his head, then his limbs, paralyzing him every morning when he woke up to find that she had visited him in his dreams again. When he was reciting poems, she was there to listen. When he was there puking into the bowl at the middle of the night, she was there patting his back. How scared he was! He had fallen for her.

His mother brought him into his father's study every night. He was to face the family tree of Malfoy, and swear never to betray the family's sake. "You are a good boy, Draco," his mother would coo, combing his blond hair with her bony fingers. "You are the Malfoy's hope, Draco. Don't fail, don't fail."

On 31st August, the final day of his summer vacation, he pulled on his first mask and joined his father's comrades- those who had not been arrested, lurking among unsuspecting wizards and witches, buying their time- and thrusted into Azkaban.

----------

_You go through my heart and through my soul_

_like a river gone out of control_

_It takes my resolve and washes it all away_

_All away_

_All awa_y

His heart fluttered. It was not a bad feeling, having your heart fluttering, like a thousand little Snitches were flying around in your ribcage. Crushing the yellowish note in his hand, he could not help but split his face into a broad smile, his first true smile in months. Seeing the horrified looks on Crabbe and Goyle, he grinned wider, but restrained from laughing out loud for fear that his dear friends would faint.

_I have to be the happiest person in the world, _he thought as he skipped down the flight of stairs leading to the main entrance. He skipped and hummed, but stopped slowly as a grim realization dawned on him.

_What if it was all a joke? What if she thought that it would make a good laugh out of me? Potter may be there, even, pointing his wand at me while Weasley laughs his head off_. As he discreetly inched towards the place, hiding himself in the shadows and peering from behind the leaves, such grotesque thoughts passed through his mind, so quickly that he could not pay attention to every one of them. _What if she just mistook me for another boy? What if that's what it is, she is seeing another boy?_

His poor heart almost stopped when he arrived. There she was, alone, no sight of Potter or Weasel. Her red hair was gently draping all over her face as she bowed her head and was clearly engrossed in whatever book she was reading. The late afternoon rays were shining through the pine needles, casting a majestic glow around her body. For a moment, he thought he had seen an angel.

"You are late," she accused when he walked out from the woods, and closed her book with a hasty 'thud'.

He noticed how she tensed up, and felt his own mouth going dry. "I-" that came out too husky. He tried again. "I got your note."

"Of course you did, why would you be here if you didn't?" She snapped, looking up and meeting his eyes for the first time. Sparks were flying from her hazel pupils, and Draco could not look away. She was not beautiful, she was perfect. Even when she was fuming.

The two of them locked their gazes for a moment, both unsure of what to say. Clearing her throat, Ginny looked away and fumbled a piece of parchment out of her robes.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Draco knew that parchment. On it he scribbled a poem during Potions. He shrugged, eyes not taken off her face.

"I don't have time to envelop it properly," he explained. "I wrote that in Potions."

"That's not what I'm asking. I want to know _why_ did you write a poem and slip it to me? When we're having lunch, too! Oh, if Ron saw you he will-"

"He will what, hex me?" He balled his hands into tight fists, willing himself not to grab her shoulder and kiss her hard. She was so near to him, so near that it seemed surreal. He turned his eyes onto the ground, finding the fact that he could do nothing even when she was so close ironic. He sneered at the twigs. "Listen, I don't care what your brother thinks. All I care is what _you _think."

"Oh yeah? Why do you care what I think? It's not like you know my name or something until last month," she put the poem back into her pocket carefully. But this Draco did not see.

"That's not true," he muttered, once again looking her in the eyes.

She was obviously trying hard to keep her gaze unfaltering. "The truth is that you've been very childish, sending me hate-mails all the time. And now this," she blinked and took a deep breath. "What do you _want,_ Malfoy?"

He lost it, right there and then. Because of what, until today the answer was still unbeknownst to him- perhaps it was her innocent look. He grabbed her hands and pushed her against the crude trunk, and started to kiss her roughly on the lips. She was heavenly to him, her lips were not too moist, but soft enough. _She had never kissed before,_ as the thought flew across his mind, he felt an ecstasy so pure and he became whole again. When she parted her lips, begging for air, he slipped in. She tasted of nectar, and his head reeled. He could feel her legs wobbling, and gently turned the passionate ravish into a loving, comforting kiss, before leaving her lips entirely.

They stood there, speechless. To her credit, Ginny had not made any attempt to slap him. She just leaned against his chest and gasped for air. The Forest was suddenly so tranquil, and the only sound was their raspy, ragged breathing. He loosened his grip on her wrists a bit.

"They aren't hate-mails," he said once he felt brave enough to.

"Oh," she whispered, face still in his robes.

"They are all poems," he continued. "If only you'd taken a little of your time to actually read-"

He stopped when she looked up finally. Her slightly swollen lips drove something terribly like guilt up his chest. She pulled back, and he had no choice but to release her hands. She took a step back.

Her gesture hurt him. How he wished to pull her back into his arms, and feel the warmth and softness that was her body again. However, there was nothing to be done now, he should not have kissed her. He should not have come in the first place. He should never, ever have fallen in love with her.

"It's- it's okay, I understand," he gulped bitterly and turned to leave. "I understand."

"W-wait," she called hesitantly. Draco could tell by her voice that she wished she hadn't. He turned, dread filling his eyes.

"That's a kiss," she said lamely, taking a step towards him.

"Yeah," and the last ever one at that, he mused.

"So, you like me," she said, her voice shaking with uncertainness. She took another step.

"Yeah," no, I don't _like _you. More than that. Draco watched as she moved to him in snail pace, and wondered idly where this conversation was heading.

She did not reply, but walked to him until they were barely an inch apart. It was too much for him, almost. He turned once more, to bail from this untouchable angel, to hide and tend his wounds in the safety of his lair.

"Don't!" She said, and grasped his right wrist. He looked at her, torn in pain and surprise. Couldn't she tell she was making this more difficult for him? Her hand was like red-hot iron.

"What now, _Weasley,_" he said the name with all the hatred he possessed, and hoped she did not catch the hint of pleading deep in his voice. "Let me go, I am wasting my time."

She let him go, and for the first time of their meeting her voice broke. Hoarse from emotion- whether anger or pity, he did not want to know- she cried, "Well I am sorry I wasted your time! I just wanted to say we can try it out!"

Were his ears deceiving him? He dared not look back. "What, what did you just say?" He did not sound like himself, the emotion-in-voice thing must be contagious.

"I just said, we may give it a try. We may be able to sort it out. We may be able to..." she sobbed, and when Draco looked back, his heart wrenched in the sight of her tears. He raced to her and, unable to contain himself, pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I just thought maybe, just maybe you may want to try-" she cried in his chest.

"I am sorry, I am sorry." How could he express his guilt and regret enough? He had hurt her before they even started.

"But I am wasting your time," she said, slightly slurred by her sobs, "I just want to see if that would work out-"

"I know," he said, hugging her tighter and showering her hair with kisses. "I know."

----------

_And I guess if that's addiction_

_then I guess that I'm addicted_

_and I guess that I'm your junkie, fair enough_

_And I guess if that's addiction_

_then I guess that I'm your junkie_

_and I guess I'm just strung out on your love_

He now knew too, something he did not know before. He should never have fallen in love with her. Even if he did, he should not have written her those poems, should not have kissed her- just the way he shouldn't have thought about her right now. But he was a mere human, after all, and had so many weaknesses. Weaknesses that his father had always warned him about. Weaknesses that brought failure insufferable in the sight of his family.

He shook his head and ran a hand through his blond hair. Slowly he crept away from the window, and turned to face the dungeon again. Crabbe and Goyle were still snoring in their beds. It was a Saturday, and they would sleep in and wake up at ten for breakfast. They would join other Slytherins in Hogsmeade.

_They would probably run into Ginny, too. _He thought as he pulled over his ankle-long black robes and tied his hair into a neat ponytail.

----------

_Don't walk away baby_

_Don't walk away baby_

_Don't walk away baby_

_Don't walk away (I'm addicted)_

_Yeah, yeah_

_I am addicted_

_I am addicted, yeah_

_I am addicted, yeah--_

The sky remained dark, there would be a storm later. But the hours matched on, and on, and on.

He hastily draped the dark green cloak across his broad shoulders. Marching towards the door, he threw the chamber one last glance.

_The time has come..._

----------


	4. Under attack

Disclaimer: After 200 cans of root beer, I almost convinced myself that everything in the HP universe belongs to me. So if your not drinking as much as I do, why would you think of that? Why would you want to sue?

This story is now dedicated to Noriko M. Chijinu, formerly she-who-must-not-be-named, my first ever reviewer. Without her one review I would never have written so many. Thanks Noriko! *big kiss*

A/N: *glances fearfully at reviewers* Look, I updated. That's what counts, right? Right?

**Ezmerelda: **Please don't kill me. Please? It won't be very grateful of you to kill me, after I've written such a nice chapter... *batters eyelashes like Bambi*

**Crystal Star-23: **Sorry this took _even _longer, I tried! Hopefully this time your Mom won't think my update e-mail's a virus. Maybe I should put 'homework' or something as the Subject.

**Noriko M. Chijinu: **Your... Drackie *shudders as she types*... is not getting happiness, I am sorry! But he's getting a Dark Mark, some new black robes and a mask.

**Real-fan05: **Thanks for loving it, and thanks for reviewing my other stories!

**loony-luna32: **Thanks! *flattered* Judging from your name, you like Luna? I have just written a new story about her. Check it out!

**musical1:** Thank you! I am so sorry it took me this long to update.

**yoshi09: **Sorry for not updating earlier. I hope this chapter is worth the wait!

**Bullwinkle435: **Thanks! I will keep writing, and writing, and writing...

**Louise Luvgood: **What will Draco become? More than a spy and a Death Eater, that's sure! Mwahahahaha! *receives scared looks* You'll have to read and find out. "The way they were meant to be" has only 15 chapters, ff.net just messed up my chapter number for fun. But I have updated the story, so go and check out the new chapter!

**Queen-Ditz: **Sorry for the wait, and hope you find this chapter good as well!

----------

Chapter 3: Under attack 

The heavens were looking ominously peaceful, like they did before a tornado arrives. A pair of birds, chittering, were embossed across the breached out sky like an obstinate tattoo.

"Ginny!"

She twisted in her bed, peered through a half-opened eyelid, and buried her head back into the pillow.

"Ginny!" The unrelenting voice called, getting closer and closer. "There you are! Wake up!"

"Mmmmm," she groaned. Someone had snatched the curtains apart, and she was trying hard to get away from the annoying source of light.

"Wake up, you lazybones!" Her quilt was pulled away by a merciless hand. She curled up in the cold air.

"Giddit back," she mumbled into the sheets, not appreciating being woke up in such an undignified way at all. She tried in vain to claw her warmth back.

"Gracious Ginny," the voice said exasperatedly while pulling the quilt further away from her fanatic fingers. "I can't believe someone sleeps till noon on a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Noon?" Ginny sat up, suddenly wide awake. She blinked and looked at Sharon, her fifth year housemate and friend.

"Noon," confirmed Sharon, nodding vigorously for good measure.

"You're kidding," Ginny scrambled out of the bed and without putting on her slippers she dashed to the window.

It was the same sky, vast and of a sick gray. It looked cloudless, or was it stuffed with clouds? She tapped on the glass with a pensive finger. A huge storm was approaching, this was certain.

"Damn," she swore under her breath.

----------

She walked quickly along the deserted corridor, trying hard not to break into a run. Of course the corridor would be deserted, everyone was in Hogsmeade! Why hadn't anyone woke her up? Despite the fact that she was usually the one up earliest owing to her being ultra-sensitive to sunlight, despite the fact that she had a charm on her bed that probably no one noticed her, and despite the fact that Sharon did come back for her, she felt unfair. What if Draco did not wait for her? What if she was the only one left alone in the castle?

Oh, she so hated stormy days. 

Pushing open the Great Hall's gigantic door, she was met by an empty Hall. Well, not exactly empty. There were two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. By the High Table was Snape, sitting alone and smirking nastily when he caught her eye. She looked away quickly.

"Ginny!" A voice called. She turned and saw Hermione. Gratefully, she walked over to her.

"I didn't see you," she said and sat down. Hermione smiled a small smile, then frowned.

"What's the matter?" Ginny inquired and started filling her plate with food that had just appeared.

"Mmm hmm," Hermione shook her head slightly. "It's nothing. I am just- worried."

Ginny put down her fork and tilted her head to the left. "Worried about what?"

"It's stupid," Hermione looked embarrassed. "You won't find it interesting, really."

That piqued Ginny's curiosity. "Well, let's hear it and decide if it's interesting or not." She crossed her arms and leant back.

Hermione knew the look. Sighing in defeat, she said, "I had this heavy feeling in my chest all morning, as if I've swallowed a ton of steel, as if something's going to happen."

"You'd better go and see Madam Pomfrey," suggested Ginny, who had resumed her eating.

"Yeah, it's probably nothing serious," Hermione concluded. Then in a brighter tone, she continued, "I'd have to go to the Hospital Wing anyway. Harry's getting out today."

"Harry's in the Hospital Wing?" Ginny exclaimed. "Merlin, I don't know! He's hurt?" She looked down hiding her shame, she should have paid Harry more attention. After all, he was her housemate, even like a brother.

"He is fine," Hermione replied consolingly. "His scar hurts again, but it's been constantly hurting recently anyway. Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster reckon it is nothing serious."

Putting down her fork and cleaning her mouth with a napkin, Ginny said, "I'll go with you."

"Great, we can play a game of Exploding Snap or two," Hermione stood up and grinned. "Or do you have to go meet your sweetheart in Hogsmeade?"

"Exploding Snap sounds fun," Ginny blushed and hit the other girl on the arm.

----------

"Hello Harry."

"Oh, Hello, Ginny," Harry sat up and began fumbling with the jar of water beside his bed. "I am not expecting you, and look I've got no tea..."

"Relax," she smiled and took over the jar and poured him a glass of water. 

"Thanks," he mumbled into the glass.

The ward seemed duller than usual, and Ginny blamed the lack of sunlight today. Harry was the only patient in the Hospital Wing right now, apart from Hermione who was at the other side of the ward with Ron and Madam Pomfrey, no doubt talking about her strange ache in the chest.

"Um, how are you feeling?" She said, breaking the awkward silence.

"Fine," he answered. "I can leave the bed later."

"That's good," she said in a fake cheerful voice. Silence then regained its position, prolonging itself between their blank faces.

"Hey, what are you two up to?" Ron skipped over, slapping Harry hard on his back. Harry coughed.

"Ron!"

"Sorry," Ron poked his tongue out at the two glaring girls. Then, his face broke into a big smile. "I've an idea. Let's go and visit Hagrid!"

"I don't feel like moving," grumbled Harry.

"Oh, c'mon, think about it." Ron persuaded. "A steaming mug of chocolate, chatting in front of a roaring fire while raindrops hit the pane, not to mention Hagrid's fruitcake..."

"Okay, okay," Harry grimaced upon the word 'fruitcake'. "Let's go."

----------

It was a short trip from the Hospital Wing to Hagrid's hut. The four Griffindors moved down the corridor, and Ginny noted that the castle was indeed very quiet today, like every Hogwarts student had gone to Hogsmeade. Every student except them four. She wondered what was Draco doing- looking at the newest broom in a window display? Having a jug of Butterbeer? Purchasing a new quill, yes, he had said that he needed a new-

"Puh-_lease!_" For what seemed the hundredth time Harry shoved away Ron's extended hand, interrupting Ginny's train of thought. "I can walk myself! See? Left, right, left. No problem there."

"Of course," Ron said and took his hand back about an inch. Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly, and Hermione chuckled. Ginny could see why her brother was worried- Harry did seem a bit wobbly and was walking slower than usual. 

But the trip was a short one, and though it took them almost twenty minutes to edge from the infirmary to across the lawn, they made it to the hut eventually. Hermione knocked twice on the door.

"Who's there- back, Fang!" Ginny could hear frantic barking from behind the door, and after much sound of shuffling, the wooden door creaked open and Hagrid's enormous bush of hair appeared.

"Hello Hagrid," the four of them chorused.

"Whadda yeh three, four kids doin' 'ere on a Ho'smeade weekend?" Hagrid demanded, but pulled the door open and let them in. 

----------

Ginny had to admit, Ron's idea of visiting Hagrid was brilliant. Only an hour in this crammed little hut, and Harry seemed a lot happier already. He was laughing at Ron who had his jaws welded together by one of Hagrid's infamous puddings. Fang was curling comfortably in front of Hermione's armchair while the girl rubbed behind his ears. The dog had spent the past hour jumping and trying to lick their faces.

"That dog, that ruddy dog," Hagrid was commenting with a snort, "he'd be sighin' if he'd lips." Hermione laughed and rubbed some more. Fang's eyes fluttered close.

Even Ginny was feeling very cozy. The sky got even darker, but she did not care. Who would, in front of the fireplace with a cup of tea in hand? She idly lifted the teapot for some more- only to find it empty. Hagrid noticed and got up,

"Yeh want more tea, eh? I don' think-"

Ginny stopped him with a hand and got up herself. "It's okay Hagrid, I know where the tap is." She then went out of the warm hut with the kettle.

"I am coming with you, Ginny," Harry said at the last minute, slipping out from the gap as the door thudded shut. "That's a pretty big kettle, you know-" he added awkwardly and took the huge brass kettle from her. She did not say anything and they walked to the back of the hut in silence.

_Whoosh. _Harry turned the tap on and water began to pour into the container. Ginny fidgeted on a foot, then on another. Twirling a tuft of red hair with her index finger absently, she searched for something to say. But what was there to say? Harry had shown jealousy, distrust, hatred even, to her and Draco. There had not been much exchange between them for the past year.

_But that was more than a year ago. And he'd been nicer recently... _Ginny looked for the anger she once felt so strong, but was startled to find none. She had forgiven Harry, perhaps a long, long time ago.

"Ginny," Harry started suddenly, almost blurting out the name, like he had been arguing with himself whether to say it or not. She looked at him- his mess of hair, his scar, his green eyes, his maturing features. No, she was not angry with the boy in front of her. Far from it. She felt peace, forgiveness, love, and... pity. Yes, pity. Harry had grown taller in these two years, but he remained one of the thinnest boy in seventh year. He was getting paler, too.

"Ginny?" Harry prompted, shaking Ginny out of her reverie.

"What? Oh, sorry Harry," she apologized.

"I should be the one saying sorry," Harry said seriously, solemnly almost. "Sorry Ginny."

"Sorry for what?" She asked lightly, though she knew the answer.

"Everything," Harry replied difficultly, and swallowed before he continued. "I've been a jerk for the past year. I've been trying to make your life miserable, and-"

"You never succeeded," Ginny interrupted with a smile.

"That's... that's good," Harry said shakily, but returned her smile. "I don't want you to be hating me when I die."

"I never hated you!" Ginny exclaimed.

Harry snorted like that was a lie he could see right through, and they both burst into laughter.

"Friends?" He held out a hand.

"Friends," she confirmed, reaching out to-

----------

_Boom!_

She never touched his hand.

The explosion was deafening, and it came from the direction of the castle. Harry dropped the half-filled kettle.

"What the-?"

"Come!" Harry turned the tap off and rushed to the front of the hut. Ginny followed.

As the two got to the front door, Hagrid, Ron and Hermione had also got out.

"Did yeh hear that?"

"Of course. What is that, Hag-"

_Boom! Boom!_

"Oh gods!" Hermione screamed. Ginny turned to look and screamed.

Gone! Simply gone. The tower facing Hagrid's hut was gone. Through the white smoke Ginny saw a gigantic hole vaguely. She could not stop screaming.

"It's the Griffindor's Tower!" Ron wailed.

"Come on!" Harry said, taking in the situation. He started to run towards the castle, towards the castle which now had one tower less.

"No! Wait! Stop!" They could hear Hagrid getting out of his shock and yelling after them, but they didn't stop. Ginny did not know what to do, so she followed Harry and ran, as fast as her two legs could run in a robe.

Yes, they were running, running in shear panic like anyone would hearing an explosion. But unlike what most people did, they were running _towards _the source of danger. Ginny felt like she had been running forever- the lawn never seemed larger. Her lungs were begging for air, her sides were stinging painfully, but she kept on. In fact, she was grateful that she was running. This way, she would not have to think about the blasted Griffindor Tower. About the Griffindors inthe tower. 

There was no time for fear.

As the three reached the castle, they heard Dumbledore's voice, magically magnified, thundering within the walls of Hogwarts.

"-under attack. Prefects, gather the students in the Common Room and stay there. I repeat, prefects, get your house's students into the Common Room and _stay there._ No one leaves the Common Room. There is no need to panic."

Ginny immediately felt safer hearing the headmaster's voice. If Dumbledore said there's no need to panic, then there's no need to panic. She, like most of Hogwarts' students, trusted the old man. She focused again on his instructions.

"Griffindors," at this the voice wavered imperceptibly, "_all_ Griffindors, please join the Hufflepuffs in their Common Room. I repeat-"

"Where the hell is the Hufflepuff's Common Room?"

"This way," Hermione was starting to turn left when Harry grabbed her shoulder. "What, Harry? You heard Dumbledore!"

"I'm not gonna hide," Harry said determinedly.

"This is no time for playing hero, Harry!" Hermione said urgently and tried to move, but Harry stopped her again.

"I am not playing hero," he said quietly. "He is near, I can feel it." He touched his scar gingerly.

"He?" Ron echoed, blanching. "_He?_"

"Voldemort," Harry confirmed grimly.

"No offense Harry," Hermione began in a voice higher than usual. "But remember what happened last time you trusted your scar too much-" she stopped as Harry closed his eyes agonizingly.

When he opened his eyes again a steely resolve glowed in his pupils, and Ginny understood that there would be no changing of his mind.

"I am in," Ron said quietly, fear in his voice, but he placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Are you with me, Hermione?" Harry looked her square in the eye.

Slowly, Hermione nodded.

Harry smiled grimly and fished out a Galleon from his robes. "Time to gather the old gang," he said, and dialed the numerals at the edge of the coin.

----------

In three minutes a small group of students gathered outside the staff room. They were mostly sixth and seventh years, but there were two fifth years and a fourth year as well. The Dumbledore's Army had evolved into a sort of dueling club since Ginny's fourth year, led by Harry, but only some chosen ones were given the coin. Only those that were trusted for their skills and loyalty.

No Slytherins were given the coin.

"So our school is under attack," Harry said to the group casually, like this was just another test he designed for them. "Remember what we've practiced and we'll all be fine. No one's going to die."

There were a few nervous chuckles, but more nodded with tightly-pursed lips. Ginny saw Colin Creevey biting his finger nails- a bad habit of his when he was either excited, or very afraid. Harry divided them into five teams, and then turned to knock on the door, ignoring the glares threw to him by the two gargoyles that flanked the staff room door.

"What are _you _doing here!" It was McGonagall who opened the door, and she exclaimed loudly seeing the small herd of students. She looked like she had aged overnight.

"We're the Dumbledore's Army," the fourth year Ravenclaw, Emile Harrison, piped up. McGonagall narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Please, Professor, let us see the Headmaster and explain," Harry said quickly before McGonagall could say anything. She glared at him.

"Mr. Potter. I should have-"

"Minerva, let them in," Dumbledore's voice bellowed from the room. The Transfiguration Professor moved reluctantly.

They walked in briskly, afraid that Dumbledore might change his mind. The staff room looked much smaller than usual, because almost every teacher was assembled here. But of course, it may be because of Hagrid who alone took up about a quarter of the room.

"'Arry! Yeh should be stayin' in ter Common Room!"

"Apparently, Potter thinks the world needs his superpowers today," a voice injected coldly. Snape, of course. And despite the situation, a sneer was still etched on his lips.

"Harry, please kindly explain you and your- army's- presence here," Dumbledore threw a furtive, disapproving look to Snape which did not escaped the eyes of Ginny. Harry took a step forward.

"The school is under attack, sir," he stated calmly. Snape snorted but Harry ignored him. "We're here to offer our- service."

"We don' need a bunch o' kids to save ter school, 'Arry," Hagrid said. "We've got professors-"

"Please, this is our school too," Hermione interrupted meekly.

Harry took another step closer to the Headmaster, fixing his gaze on the old wizard's face. "Sir, a lot of Death Eaters are out there. More than the professors can hope to cope with. Not when they're protecting the students at the same time. Our group," he made a gesture circling the Dumbledore's Army, "our twenty members, are more than capable of protecting ourselves."

"And kick a few Death Eater butts," Ginny heard Ron mumbled under his breath.

"How do you know there are Death-" Dumbledore began, and stopped as the understanding dawned on him. He observed him, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and his legendary scar. A sad expression overtook the twinkle in his eyes, and he nodded.

"Albus! But this-"

_Boom! _

The floor shook! Another explosion!

"Heads of houses, get to your houses, now! Minerva, please go to the dungeons. Severus, I need you with the battling," Dumbledore said, almost apologetically to the man, but Snape stood up, showing no emotion. He reached into his robes unconsciously, and Ginny knew what was in there. She touched her own wand. It was quivering in her palm.

"It would take the Aurors at least an hour to be here," Dumbledore spoke to the group of students, many of whom were gripping their wands tightly now. "Fight, yes. But run when you have to," then he turned to Harry, "I trust their lives in your hand now, Harry. Don't lose any one of your group. That includes you."

A scream was heard in the distance. The war had begun! As the realization dawned on her, Ginny felt her heart beating faster. Adrenalin was pumping into her veins, and it felt good. It stopped her from thinking about Draco. It stopped her from thinking what she was about to face. It stopped her fear.

Sort of.

Everyone moved out of the room. Heads of houses rushed to their respective Common Rooms; some professors were off to Hogsmeade, hoping to save the remaining students there- Ginny shuddered to think about what had happened to them; and still some professors were going in different directions to fight Death Eaters, Snape amongst them. She took a deep breath.

"Listen, our mission is not to seek a fight with the Death Eaters, but to look for students who may be trapped or injured by the explosions," Harry instructed. "Do _not _deliberately provoke the Death Eaters, they will throw a death curse at you without second thought. Hide, stick to the shadows, check before turning any corner." He then assigned a destination to each team, which moved when they heard the order without questioning.

"And now," Harry said to his three remaining members, which included Ginny, Neville and Emile, "we go to the Griffindor Tower."

----------

A/N: I am having my literature exam in two days and here I am, writing. _Writing! _As if the exam meant nothing to me... sheesh. I am getting lazier and lazier. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. The next will be even more breath-taking! I promise! And it won't take me another two months to get it out. I hope.

All anonymous reviewers please leave your e-mail address if you want to be put onto the mailing list. And please check out my new, I mean _brand _new story. It's written in first person, about Luna and Ron. It's a new style, totally different from this and "The way they were meant to be"! Speaking of which, it would be very much appreciated if you go and review that, too. I am getting only, like, 14 reviews for the new chapter. Considering how some of you said that you'd kill me if I don't get it out soon, it is not very responsive! I feel so unloved! *cries*

Before you leave, hopefully for my other stories, REVIEW this first. Thanks!

P.S. My birthday's on 22nd January! *wink wink, nudge nudge*


	5. The final battle

Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot is mine. Everything else belongs to JK Rowling. The song belongs to Avril Lavigne.

This story is now dedicated to Noriko M. Chijinu, formerly she-who-must-not-be-named, my first ever reviewer. Without her one review I would never have written so many. Thanks Noriko! *big kiss*

A/N: Sorry for the late update. School, what else? To make up for the late update, this chapter runs on twice as long. Hope you all enjoy it!

**Ezmerelda: **I'm sorry but Ginny has to face the choice. This story isn't called a 'tangling dilemma' for nothing... watch out for the love triangle that is going to emerge any moment. And thanks for the b-day card. Love ya!

**Malenne: **Thanks for reading!

**kassana: **You're on my mailing list. Thanks for reading!

**Real-fan05: **Thanks for the b-card you guys sent me, I cried! I felt so loved! And feel free to send Sirius to hit me, I deserve it... *grins*

**metallicverb: **I understand how Harry may seem a little too sure of himself- his hero complex at work. He can't help it, poor boy...

**sniggler: **Thanks, and keep on reading!

**TrippyGirl20051: **Thanks, and sorry for not writing sooner. Hope you like this chapter!

**IcePhoenix128: **Thanks for the happy birthday, I did have one. As for the story, I am sorry for the late update. Continue liking it!

----------

Chapter 4: The final battle

The Griffindor Tower. Only there was not much of a tower left when they arrived.

The place was in complete ruins. The top of the tower was blasted away, and half of the walls facing the Lake were gone, leaving a giant hole, from which icy winds began to blow strong. As the four moved single file, gingerly as not to step on crumbling stones lest they should fall twenty feet down to the ground, Ginny lamented the place she had resided for over six years. Crimson carpets were scorched, armchairs toppled to their sides or simply reduced to mounts of ashes, the frame of the Fat Lady empty. It seemed that the Death Eaters had destroyed this place with their wands as well as their wrath, and maybe with glee, too, knowing that they had finally triumphed. The wind blew over their heads, producing a hollow echo that made the scene even sadder.

The four walked close to each other, their steps light and stealthy. Harry walked in the very front, and Ginny walked between Emile and Neville. She felt quite safe to have Neville, who had grown drastically since his fifth year and was now the second-in-command of the Dumbledore's Army, behind her. Was he feeling what she was feeling? She wondered. A mix of dread and sorrow and anger and relief, that she wasn't in the tower when it happened, and guilt derived from this thought? She struggled to keep her breathing steady, but she had no control over her sweat, which was now all over her hands and her back. Neville answered none of her unspoken queries, and his breathing became lower than that of a mosquito's.

They walked and walked for what seemed like an eternity to Ginny but had to be only minutes. They heard nothing, not even battles from below and beyond. The wind blew fiercer and they feared it may rain soon. Through her flying mess of hair, Ginny saw the hope of finding someone alive in this hell became smaller and smaller. But before it could flicker and die out, a voice was heard.

_Hush,_ Harry held up a hand. Ginny felt her slackened muscles tensed up.

The voice was weak, almost inaudible in the relentless blowing of winds. Ginny concentrated, but could not recognize the sound. Was it a laugh, a whimper, or was it the nature playing games with them?

"This way," Harry mouthed the words, and turned left. The rest followed suit, creeping and listening with vigilance. The voice- or voices, as Ginny recognized- grew louder.

They approached a corner and Harry halted. A conversation was heard. The speakers were obviously quarrelling and had thrown their cautions of keeping down their voices into the Lake.

"-enough. Our job- must join our Lord-"

"I want- let- taste blood-"

"-the plan, we have-"

They could not grasp it too well, but one thing was clear- those were Death Eaters. Harry motioned for them to back away.

"What?" Emile whispered with widened eyes.

"We are not seeking a fight," Harry replied in an even lower whisper.

"There are just two of them!" The fourth year couldn't understand. Wasn't this tower their home, and weren't the destroyers of it just out there?

"We must leave at once," Harry ordered, growing impatient.

"But-"

"Who's there?" A terrifying voice bellowed. Emile squeaked softly.

"Run," Harry said, and started to move himself. Neville followed promptly, but Emile seemed to be pinned to the ground by fear.

"Who's there?" The voice no longer sounded suspicious. He had heard something, and knew that prey was behind the wall. His calculating steps turned into big determined ones, and his partner followed.

"Run!" Neville tugged the girl's sleeve. Too late! A black-hooded figure emerged from the corner. Ginny turned to see his horrible, blood-thirst eyes shining behind his mask.

"Ha, meddlesome babies-"

"_Stupefy_!"

A jet of red light shot out of Harry's wand and hit the Death Eater square in the chest. He froze, his hand still in his pocket, ready to reach for his wand. Harry moved forward briskly.

"Be pre-"

Before he could finish the sentence, another figure, this one much shorter but hooded the same, came into view.

"_Stupefy_!"

"_Crucio_!" The second Death Eater was more prepared than the first. He ducked behind his frozen partner and fired a curse which Harry barely dodged. Ginny jerked her wand out and shouted,

"_Stupefy_!"

Again the Death Eater ducked with ease. His smaller body was more agile and his fellow Death Eater provided the perfect shield he needed.

"Coward!" Harry chanted as contemptuously as he could manage, but the Death Eater merely sneered and threw a Boiling Jinx at him. 

Suddenly a third Death Eater came from behind Emile, and swiftly knocked her out.

"Emile!" Ginny screamed, throwing herself at the falling girl.

"_Protego_!" Neville said just in time, blocking a purple jet from the girls.

But now what seemed an easy and quick battle took a nasty turn. It was three against two at best- three students against two fully trained Death Eaters. Neville and Harry fought back to back, unconsciously shielding the girls from the rain of curses.

Meanwhile Ginny was busy checking for a pulse in Emile. She fumbled at the girl's wrist, and was relieved to find a faint jumping there. But she couldn't stay behind the boys forever. They needed her help.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

Her aim was poor and the curse bounced off the wall six inches above the second Death Eater, who laughed in between the curses he threw. Harry, having no shield as he did, escaped yet another curse by shear luck.

"Harry!"

"Help me!" He shouted while sending another Stunnerto the cunning man, who seemed like he couldn't care less that his partner was enduring all the curses while he rested behind him.

"_How?_" She could see Neville gaining an upper hand in his battle out of the corner of her eye. Maybe he could help Harry then.

"Get rid of the big one!"

She wanted very much to ask how again, but could see that may not be very productive. Instead, she shouted,

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The power required to lift a full grown, two-hundred-pound man was insanely demanding, but she managed to lift him up for several inches, which was enough for Harry, who hit him off his feet with a Tumbling Curse. At the same time, Neville blinded his opponent and was tying him up with magical ropes.

"You can put him down, Ginny," Harry said gently. She exhaled heavily and let go of the Death Eater who slumped on top of his partner.

As soon as the battle was over, Neville kneeled down and began to attend to Emile who was still unconscious. Ginny stood apprehensively beside them while Harry went around the corner to check for survivors.

"How's she?"

"She'll be fine," Neville replied, taking out a flask of translucent potion and some black dried leaves from his robes. Chewing the leaves briefly, he stuffed them into the flask and mixed them with the potion, which turned into a sick hue of green. Expertly he forced the girl's mouth open and poured the potion in, not spilling a drop.

"Why can't we just _Enervate _her?" Ginny asked, feeling quite put off by the gross potion. Neville just smiled at her and continued his work. Harry walked out from behind the wall and shook his head sadly.

"If only I've gotten here quicker..." Harry muttered, frustrated at himself.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Ginny tried, "we've all done what we can. Right, Neville?" Seeing Harry's expressionless face, she turned to Neville desperately for help.

"We didn't find any dead body either," was Neville's quiet reply.

"Yeah, there probably isn't anyone-" Ginny said, and was interrupted by a small groan. Emile stirred and opened her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Neville bowed over her and checked her pulse. She blinked and looked around unfocused, obviously lost. Harry kneeled beside the pair and helped the girl sit up.

"Emile?" He said kindly.

"H-Harry?" The girl shook her head and sat up straighter.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, looking closely at her. "You've been knocked out."

"I have?"

"Can you walk?"

"I- I guess so," she replied and tried to stand up in vain. Harry and Neville, each taking an arm, pulled her up. She stood shakily, as if she had been hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx.

"Is it okay to let go now-?" Harry asked. Emile nodded and-

_Boom!_

An explosion, the first since those that destroyed the Griffindor Tower half an hour ago, directly detonated below their feet! The ground shook violently and Emile fell back down.

"Merlin, this place is going to collapse!"

Sure enough, the remaining pillars that sustained the Tower were moaning now, as small rocks and pebbles fell and jumped around their feet.

Harry looked around in alarm. "We need to evacuate, fast." He took the lead and the rest followed. The earth gave another scary rumble. Ginny walked briskly after Harry, focusing her eyes on his unruly black hair and trying hard to ignore the dropping pebbles all around her.

"Faster, we're nearly there!" Harry called, and Ginny saw the staircase, thirty feet from them.

_Boom!_

Ginny heard a thud behind her. Emile had fallen. She rushed forward.

"No!" Harry tugged on her sleeve and pulled her back. To Ginny's horror, she saw the ground began to crumble behind Neville.

"Oh my god! Run!"

Neville helped Emile up, but her ankle was twisted.

"Don't mind me, run!" Emile screamed above the thundering noises of the earth caving in.

"I am _not _leaving anyone behind!"

"Neville!" Ginny hollered, but they could no longer see the other pair through the heavy dust. "Emile!"

"_GO!_" Came Neville's unwavering voice.

Ginny sobbed as Harry pulled her forward and they sprinted for the exit.

----------

The entire Hogwarts ground shook when what was left of the Griffindor Tower crumbled to nothingness, but the gray sky was indifferent, kept a straight gloomy face but did not shed a tear.

"Come on, Ginny, we need to help those fighting in the Great Hall," Harry said.

Ginny wiped away the streams of tears on her face and looked irritably at Harry, hoping to find traces of them on his face. She could only find the same grim determination that had been there to convince Hermione and others to fight.

"Come on," Harry prompted again impatiently. "There's work to do."

"Work? Is that all you can think of, work?" Exploded Ginny, tears in her eyes again. "Neville and Emile are- are- and all you say is 'there's work to do'?!"

Harry turned away in silence. Ginny sobbed and hiccupped, but did not say anything more, for she feared she had offended Harry.

"Don't write them off," he said finally, walking away from her. His voice filled with trust, and an emotion that could only be described as grieve, a grieve so deep that it was beyond tears and words. Ginny followed.

They walked to the Great Hall, and could smell a pungent smell of burning coming from it. They exchanged a look. 

"_Stupefy!_" Harry shouted as he pushed open the door, stunning the nearest Death Eater. Ginny flicked out her wand as well, marveling at Harry's wits and vigilance. He was not the head of the Dumbledore's Army for nothing.

They entered the long Great Hall, stepping past its ruined tables and chairs. In the far end of the room stood four Death Eaters, all hooded and wands out, semi-circling Snape. Nearby were a few Death Eaters, Stunned or dead, Ginny could not tell. Professor Hardy, this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was also sitting on the floor, though he seemed sober.

"Get away, Potter!" Snape noticed them and snarled like usual, as if they were in the dungeons and this was merely another Potions lesson. He was ghastly pale. A long wound was bleeding under his left eye.

"_Reducto!_" Harry cursed so forcefully that his spell threw a Death Eater against the wall. As though awakened by this, the Death Eaters that had stopped dueling since his entrance spontaneously started throwing curses again.

"I don't need your help!" Snape bellowed, blocking a Freezing curse.

Harry had not time to reply, as two Death Eaters had begun sending him spells. Ginny stood, unable to react.

"Ginny, wake up!" Harry said, dodging a spell.

"_Impedimenta__!_" She shouted, freezing a Death Eater. Harry sent a thunder bolt toward his attacker. As the spells were thrown back and forth Ginny got better at ducking curses and managed to be of some help.

"_Pertrificus Totalus!_" With that the Death Eater fell, stiff as a corpse. Harry rushed forward and tied the two.

"Good job," said Harry. Ginny grinned.

"Potter. Again you ignored what is good for you," a surly voice broke the moment. The Griffindors looked up, startled, to see Snape walking over to them, his opponents out cold behind him. Harry, for once, did not return a snappy comment.

"Where's the Headmaster?" He asked unemotionally.

"I don't know, we split up," the Potions Master replied, deepening his scowl. "Where are your... _comrades, _then?"

"They are safe, sir," he said defiantly, and though Ginny had no way of telling whether he was lying or not, she sincerely hoped he wasn't. Maybe the others had returned to the Common Rooms, with all the survivors they could find, and notified Harry by the bewitched coin. Yes, that's probably it.

And suddenly Ginny thought of Draco.

"Argh-" Harry's groan shook her out of her thoughts.

"Harry?"

Clutching his scar, Harry's face screwed into a horrible grimace. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead. Without being told, Ginny knew he was in agonizing pain.

"It's the Dark Lord," Snape said in a voice that Ginny never heard him used before. It was trembling. Gripping his arm tightly, he pursed his lips and did not bother to keep the fear off his face.

"He's here," Harry muttered and straightened up. Ginny thought his scar looked like it was glowing.

"Potter-" Snape started sharply, but it was no use. Harry had begun running. "Potter!" Snape began to run after the boy, and Ginny too, ran after the two.

"Damn presumptuous blunderbuss-" she could hear Snape swearing. "Weasley, go fetch the Headmaster!" 

She needed not be told twice. Pausing for a moment, she took off in the opposite direction.

----------

_ Where would Dumbledore be?_

She ran, her heels clicking against the stone and her mind blank but for the question. She needed to find the Headmaster. He was the only one that You-know-who feared.

Right, left, up a flight of stairs, passed the Trophy Room, down again, ignored the broom closets. She had never realized how vast Hogwarts was. There were marks of fighting everywhere- half-crumbled walls, burned classrooms, scattered parchments- and a queer feeling enveloped the place, like something was going to happen. Or had it happened? Ginny ran, suddenly aware of the awful silence.

She was turning into the corridor that led to the Astronomy Tower when she bumped into someone. She nearly screamed.

"Shh, Ginny!"

It was Ron.

And in his arms, Hermione.

"Merlin's name, what happened?"

"Hit by a desperate Death Eater. Not before we get them all down, though," Ron replied in a strangled voice of angst and pride. "She'll survive. Where are _you _going? Where's Harry?"

Ginny filled him a quick account of what happened. Ron blanched.

"I'll leave Hermione to Madam Pomfrey, then I will come with you," he offered.

"No. You stay with her," she wanted her brother to be with her, more than ever, but she could see he was reluctant to leave Hermione, not when she was unconscious. She also knew what it would mean to Hermione to see him the moment she woke up.

"I-" Ron hesitated, then nodded. "The password to Dumbledore's office is 'Licorice wands'. Find Fawkes." Being the Head Boy, he knew the passwords to the Headmaster's office and the staff room.

Ginny took off without another word. Time was the key to survival, and she feared for Harry.

She arrived the Headmaster's office uneventfully, except for once she thought there was a Death Eater in a room, but it turned out to be a broken armor. She said the password while gasping for air, and the stairs emerged, allowing her into the office. She had been in here before, and everything seemed relatively unchanged to her- the silver gadgets, the plush armchairs, the roaring fire. And there in the middle of the room behind the great desk, sat the Headmaster himself.

"Sir?" _What are you doing in here when there were destructions and murders below this very floor?_ It was an unspoken question. Ginny could not believe her eyes, and rubbed it twice.

"Miss Weasley," the man sounded old.

"Sir, you must come at once!" Getting over the shock, Ginny remembered why she was here in the first place. "He-who-must-not-be-named is here!"

"I know," still the Headmaster sounded old and calm. He made no motion of standing up.

"But- but-" stammered the girl. She had not expected this reaction. "But Harry had-"

"The time has come," interrupted Dumbledore, "for Harry to fulfill the prophecy." 

Ginny remained quiet for a minute. She remembered only too well what the prophecy was about.

"So Harry may... die?" She said softly, not really knowing what this meant.

"There's nothing I can do, Ginny," the man said, not unkindly. Ginny stared at the old man in front of her, at his white hair and brows. Had they gotten whiter over the years? She had learnt to trust the man, but now she didn't really know what to think. _There's no way..._

She brushed away a tear that she hadn't noticed falling with the back of her hand. "I- I'm sorry," she swallowed, and as she dashed out of the office she heard Dumbledore's sigh behind her.

----------

What was there to do now? She could go fetch help from others in the Common Rooms, but she could not bear the thought of seeing Harry, dead, in front of her. So she decided to run yet again, to his side. She knew she couldn't help much, not if You-know-who was really there, but at least, at least...

At least what, she didn't wish to think about.

Right, left, down, left, down, down, down. She had to get to the grounds.

_Where were they-_

But there was no need to ask. As soon as she got out of the castle through the great oak doors, she could hear shouts and screams to her right. She took off.

She found Harry in front of the Whomping Willow.

And surely, He-who-must-not-be-named was there too.

A shiver ran through Ginny's body. This man, or this _monster_, destroyed so many lives, so many homes. A suffocating smell of evil radiated off him. She suppressed a cough.

"You couldn't kill me anymore," she heard Harry sneered. His back was to her, so she could not see his face.

"I haven't even tried yet, Potter," the Dark Lord said with a cruel smile playing on his lips.

Ginny could not bear to watch this drama unfold. She looked away and saw two Death Eaters behind their master. Snape was- Ginny yelped softly- Snape was a lifeless heap on the ground.

"_The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._" Harry recited quietly.

His opponent grinned boarder. "It is time, boy," he drawled.

"_...Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._"

"Shall we?" The Dark Lord, with one wave of wand, drew a silver sphere circling both of them. To Ginny's- and apparently, the two Death Eaters'- horror, she realized that the two were going to fight their final battle one-on-one.

In the flash of a second, all hell broke lose. Shouts, yells, jinxes, curses, thrown in every direction. Ginny clutched her fingers together, her heart racing. She could not see much because the silver shield was hard enough to see through without the blinding curses in it. Soon, all she could do was to listen to You-know-who's triumphant scream.

Harry's silence unnerved her.

"Augh-!"

"Harry!"

He had been hit, and she had let her presence be known! Too late!

"Kill her!"

"Ginny!"

"_Avada Kedavra!_" 

A blast of heat knocked Ginny down, several feet from Snape. She was lucky. The Death Eaters had missed, by millimeters perhaps, but she would not be as lucky this time. She could see Snape's inert face, and she feared she was about to face the same fate-

"_Avada_-"

Everything was switched to slow, slow motion. A blur of red dropped on her, like a sack of potatoes, covering her entirely. She looked up and for a split second that contained eternity, their eyes locked.

"_Kedavra_-"

Green light filled her world. The last thing she remembered before blacking out, was the mild relief in Harry's emerald eyes.

----------

I'm standing on the bridge

I'm waiting in the dark

I thought you'd be here by now

There's nothing but the rain

No footsteps on the ground

I'm listening but there's no sound

Cold. Wet.

She stirred uncomfortably.

The smell of rain.

_Where am I? _

She stirred again. Something heavy was lying on her.

_What is happening?_

She blinked, and opened her eyes.

¡@

I'm looking for a place

I'm searching for a face

Is anybody here I know?

'Cause nothing's going right

And everything's a mess

And no one likes to be alone

"Master, master..."

She closed her eyes again. Someone stood up.

"Master, master..."

"Stop it, Bellatrix, our Lord has gone."

"No, no, no," a woman's voice wailed.

Ginny peered through a half-opened eyelid. Two hooded figures were hunching over a heap on the ground.

"Don't touch him!" A sharp voice warned.

"My Lord, oh, my Lord," the woman was still wailing, but Ginny saw her hand withdrew in fear. She could also see raindrops evaporating into hissing steam touching the corpse.

"Cut it out, Bellatrix," ordered the man. "He was not dead. Our Lord had left, but his power remains. We must now return to our new Lord."

_New Lord? What new Lord?_

"My Lord foresees everything, his intellect is unmatched," the woman muttered.

"Long lives the dark," the man muttered back.

"Long lives the dark."

¡@

Isn't anyone trying to find me?

Won't somebody come take me home?

It's a damn cold night

Trying to figure out this life

Won't you

Take me by the hand

Take me somewhere new

I don't know who you are but I

I'm with you

"Shouldn't we burn Potter?" The hatred was evident in her voice.

"Leave the boy be. He's dead."

_Harry's dead?_

Ginny listened as the two Death Eaters scurried across the lawn towards the Forest.

The rain fell even heavier.

She sat up, picking strands of dewy grass out of her hair. Harry was beside her. She touched him.

He was cold. He was dead.

"Harry," she whispered.

His hurting scar, his words behind Hagrid's hut, his steely resolve to fight-

She should have saw it earlier.

He had known what he would face today. He had known all along.

¡@

Oh, why is everything so confusing?

Maybe I'm just out of my mind

yeah, yeah, yeah

yeah, yeah, yeah-

The cold drops splashed on their faces. Ginny listened as the rain sang around her.

Her face was wet. Her whole body was. And she didn't know whether she was crying or not.

_Where's Draco?_

She craved for his strong arms and chest. She craved for the warmth.

_"Everything would be alright, my Little Flame," _he'd say, and he'd kiss her tears away, one by one.

_Where are you?_

The world was sketched by quill and ink in the heavy rain. She could hardly make out the castle, now a haunted, foreboding ruin without its candle lights sparkling warmly in it.

She did not know how long she had been in the rain, holding Harry's hand. But eventually, a crisp sound was heard. Footsteps on grass.

Someone was approaching.

¡@

Isn't anyone trying to find me?

Won't somebody come take me home?

It's a damn cold night

Trying to figure out this life

Won't you

Take me by the hand

Take me somewhere new

I don't know who you are but I

I'm with you

Oh, I'm with you

A tall figure came into view. Ginny squinted, but could not recognize him.

_Draco. _Her heart called out.

As if he could hear her, the figure moved closer and closer.

She was definitely crying now. Someone had come for her. She was lost, but now she was found.

¡@

I don't know who you are but I

I'm with you

I'm with you

She let go of Harry. Shaking in her robes, she struggled to get up but her efforts were in vain. The man stopped in front of her, and all she could make out were his black boots and the hem of his robes.

He kneeled down and without saying a word pulled Ginny into his arms. She couldn't hold back any longer. She sobbed in his robes.

"Harry, Harry," she whispered. He only stroked her hair in silence.

She sobbed harder. His chest was strong and warm.

It smelled like soap. _Soap?_

_But maybe it was the rain?_

"Ginny-"

She turned, and there stood a looming figure, black and hooded like the Death Eaters. He extended a hand.

The arms around Ginny gripped tighter, but she hardly noticed.

"Come, Ginny."

----------

A/N: Aren't you proud of me? This chapter is so looooonng. I nearly cried writing this. Poor Harry, poor Ginny, poor everybody- *wails* this is just a sad chappie! Ginny is about to face her first dilemma. The end may seem a bit confusing but I promise the next chapter will sort it all out. Now, be a good girl and REVIEW! Anonymous reviewers, please put down your email address to be included in the mailing list. 


	6. The aftermath

Disclaimer: Nothing related to the HP universe belongs to me. The trivial piece of information that a square yard of drag will slow a body up to twenty percent is not bluff. It is taken out from Dan Brown's book, Angels and Demons, and does not belong to me. Great book, by the way.

This story is now dedicated to Noriko M. Chijinu, formerly she-who-must-not-be-named, my first ever reviewer. Without her one review I would never have written so many. Thanks Noriko! big kiss

A/N: A detailed explanation for my absence and lack of update (it has been almost _a year_ since I last updated this story) has been given in my email to those on the mailing list. I don't know how many of you are still interested in this story, or even fanfiction. I just hope that a good story remains a good story, and at least part of my readers and reviewers are still out there to read this chapter. I can only say, the past year has been eventful. I have had the happiest time of my life, but I have also broken my heart. I have started college as well. Now that everything is settled, and my passion for writing is rekindled, let's hope that there will be no more excuses but only frequent updates.

**TrippyGirl20051:** Thanks! Hope you like this chapter as well.

**hobogoddess:** Sorry for the laaaaaaaaate update. Forgive me and keep liking the story!

**Ezmerelda:** I beg your forgiveness for my lack of update. Please keep on reading and reviewing!

**Hio:** Thanks!

**anonymous:** I am sorry, Harry is indeed, dead. It is required by the plot. But please don't give up on the story!

----------

Chapter 5: The Aftermath

"Come, Ginny."

A Death Eater was calling her name! A Death Eater, who probably had blood on his hands, and the taste of it in his mouth! Ginny shuddered, unconsciously snuggling closer into the arms that were holding her.

Who was this figure with a sinister aura? And how did he know her name?

"Come, Ginny," the man prompted again. There was something in his voice that made her wanted to take his hand. She stared at the extended hand, her mind blank. There was no reason for her to oblige... there was no way that she would...

Was there?

"Come," the voice was almost gentle, "my Little Flame."

"I- " she snapped up in shock and drowned into the silvery eyes behind the mask.

"Malfoy," a grim voice came from Ginny's behind, and the arms circling her tightened.

"Longbottom," the Death Eater spat the name with the same malice. "You're not dead."

"I do notice that little piece of fact, thank you very much," with lightening reflexes, Neville pulled out his wand and pointed it directly at Draco. Ginny looked at the dull burgundy wand apprehensively. Despite the fact that Draco was looming over them, the wand in Neville's hand still appeared forebodingly dangerous.

Draco examined the wand idly, almost amusedly, and Ginny could imagine the small sneer tugging on his lips behind the mask. "What are you going to do to me, Longbottom? Avenge Potter's-"

As soon as the name left his lips, Neville shouted, "_Crucio!_"

Draco ducked the curse, and stood back up immediately, his wand in hand. "Tsk, tsk. Unforgivables, eh? A noble Griffindor you are."

Ginny looked at the two boys in turn, and had a strange feeling that this was just like another argue in the hallway. Only this time the boys were not in uniforms, and they were not calling each other names for fun. She could feel Neville shaking in fury. It was as if the word "Potter" had switched on some unknown, aggressive part inside him.

"_Stupefy,_" he cursed softly under his breath, but it went straight into Ginny's ear. His calmness unnerved her. Jinx after jinx he threw at Draco, who barely had time to dodge, let alone retaliate. _Even if he could he would not_, Ginny realized with a jolt. Draco would not take the chance of hurting her. It was a battle that he could never win. And although Neville had refrained from using the Unforgivables again, she would not want Draco to be wounded. She would not want him to be caught and sent to the Azkaban, or worse, to be _kissed._

"Argh!" Draco swore painfully as a red beam seared his sleeve, leaving an ugly mark on his forearm.

"No!" Without thinking, Ginny snatched away Neville's raised wand. In that split second, Draco, clutching the bleeding wound with one hand, shouted, "_Reducto!_"

"Ginny!" Covering her entirely with his own body, Neville received the curse in full force and fell with a dull 'thud' onto the ground.

"Neville!" Oh no, what had she done? Ginny regarded the body with fear.

"He will survive," panting, Draco walked closer and answered her unasked question. Ginny stood up and took a step back.

Her action stung him. He gazed hard into her eyes, searching for the familiar warmth, humor and twinkle in them. The girl he loved with all his heart stared back with dread and hopelessness. Unable to stand her ashen face, he mustered all his strength and looked away. She had once healed him, but now he was torn apart again, and this time, she was the one who did it.

"Why?" She whispered after a silence that was too long.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He had asked 'why' again and again, but there was just no answer to the question. He could have said it was his father's fault, the Dark Lord's fault, the world's fault; but everything went back to him. He was weak. He was a coward.

It was his fault.

----------

The rain was falling harder now.

Ginny peered through her limping curtains of red hair, hardly noticing her soaked robe. The wind hollered above her, the raindrops sounded almost melodious on the grass, but somehow everything sounded far away to her. A mist enveloped the world, even around the dark figure in front of her, giving him a dreamlike glow.

_Maybe that's it. I am in a dream._

Only Ginny knew a dream would be too easy a way out. She looked down at Neville. He was lying face down, out cold._ Because of me. I seized his wand. _A few feet beside him laid Harry. _He, too, was dead because of me. _Hogwarts, or what was left of it, stood gloomily in the distance.

No, this was not a dream.

She lowered her eyes, feeling the adrenaline that was holding her together sipping away. In a matter of hours, her world had crumbled. Hogwarts, Harry...and now,_ Draco._

_Was all lost? Because of... me?_

_ NO!_ Her heart berated forcefully. What good would guilt do to her now? She would have plenty time to feel bad later. Now she needed determination, wisdom. And strength. Alas, Merlin knows how much strength she needed to get her next words out. They would change her whole life. They would wound her, shred her.

She braced herself for the impact.

----------

Draco felt suffocated. He thought it was the mask.

Looking through the two slits, he studied her. Her head was hanging low, her robe was soaked thoroughly, clinging snugly to her slim frame. How he wanted to dash to her side and pull her into his embrace, how he craved to give her warmth and kiss the melancholy off her face. But that was not to be, not today. He noted the distance between them, three yards most, but she had never felt as painfully distant as now.

He had not expected Ginny to leave her universe behind and go with him into the unknown readily. But out of a wild desire, hoping against hope, he wished she would, and had come for her. He knew time was running out. There were new duties waiting for him, and new comrades, too. Soon there would be Aurors flooding in, horrified at the sight of Potter's body- too bad he wouldn't be here to witness their expressions- and he knew he should be going. But, against his better judgment, here he was in open space, wounded, an easy target.

"Ginny," he sighed. He could not stay any more. He could not afford to be caught. It was not up to him, but he was no longer in the position to make any rash decision. He was now a man of callings and honors, not a carefree, innocent boy- not that he ever was one.

"Go," she muttered beneath her breath. Draco couldn't hear clearly. He took a step toward her.

"Go," she said again, and looked up. Her face was streaked with tears, and Draco could feel the saltiness on his tongue. How many times had she cried in his arms, when he kissed the tears one by one away?

"Go! Before I call somebody!" She was shouting now, her tears running more freely. She looked directly at him, and Draco could feel her eyes tracing his features under the mask, first on his brows, then down his nose, then to his lips, and finally back to his eyes. Lingering, speaking, then excruciatingly, she broke the contact. Biting her lips, she tore one of her sleeves of her robe, walked over, and tied it tightly around the bleeding wound on his arm. Not looking at him anymore, she stepped back.

Draco looked at her. She was staring defiantly in the other direction. There would be no hugs this time, no goodbye kisses. He stood straighter, and with one last, long look, he departed into the Forest.

----------

No one has imagined that it would end like this.

Despite years of anticipation, the final attack of the Dark Lord came as a surprise. And as abrupt as it occurred, it was over. The Dark Lord was dead. However, his downfall was not greeted with an all-out, well-deserved celebration. In fact, the Wizarding world, while feeling relieved and grateful for the bravery shown in those who helped to bring about the Great Downfall, was grieved by the deaths of some of its brightest souls, Severus Snape and Harry Potter among them. Harry Potter especially, it seemed, brought tears to many eyes. His name was whispered reverently, the-boy-who-lived would now be the-boy-to-be-remembered. The story of how he had defeated the Dark Lord would come out in many versions and remain one of the most well-known legends in the Wizarding world.

Meanwhile, a fog of mourning hung low over the roofs of the wizards and the witches. Many homes put up black curtains, and even more people wore black robes, as a tribute to the boy. The following week, almost all the publication had Harry's glowing, smiling face as their cover, his patent scar in place. His heroic and legendary life was retold in the most truthful manner. Even Rita Skeeter wrote a moving piece of story for the _Daily Prophet,_ not bothering to put in her own bits of detail and sarcasm.

Ginny looked down at the article again. Knowing every single word in it by now, she was interested in something else. Surely, the Harry in the photo next to the article beamed at her, and winked. Sighing, she folded the newspaper neatly and placed it on her lap. She was in a long, ebony dress-robe, and her hair was tied in a loose bun. She would have dyed it black, too, if not for her mother forbidding her to _go to the extreme. _ Now, her family sat together as a flame sticking out in the midst of a billowing black sea of lamentation. She felt self-conscious, but somehow, she couldn't bring her mind to care about what others thought of her at this moment.

She couldn't bring herself to care much about anything, in fact. A part of her inside had shut itself close. She shifted a bit in her seat, and focused on the ceremony. She and her family were sitting at the very front, and the slightly raised platform was but a few feet from them. On the platform was a long table, like an altar, and behind it sat Fudge and a few other authorities that Ginny didn't recognize. She was pretty sure some of them were from other countries.

"...and it is our great loss, that one of the youngest, bravest wizards of our time had sacrificed himself in this war," said Dumbledore slowly. He looked much older than usual, and his expression was one of his rarer ones- there was no mirth dancing in his eyes but sadness. His hands were gripping the podium a bit too tightly, as if he needed the support. Ginny could hear her mother sniffed into her handkerchief.

"Now, at the end of this ceremony," continued Dumbledore's magnified, solemn voice, "let's all rise, and give our warriors one last bow. May their courage, sacrifice and honor long live in our hearts."

The throng stood up as one, sounding like a roaring wave had hit the shore, even though no one spoke. Ginny stood up numbly, her two hands wrenching together unconsciously. Her lips formed mumbling words that her head didn't quite seem to acknowledge.

"-given up his reputation, freedom and life. He lived for the Light, died for the Light. May his soul finally finds a place of peace- Severus Snape."

Ginny whispered the name with the crowd, her late Potions Master's lifeless face once again flashing in front of her eyes.

"Though dragged involuntarily into the war, he lived up to the challenges with selflessness, wits and bravery. He fulfilled the prophesy, died to protect and save our world-"

_That's not true, _for the first time in days her heart piped up. _He died to save **me**._

As the name Harry Potter left gravely out of the wizards' and the witches' lips, Ginny felt a sickening emotion swelled up in her abdomen. She could not bear it anymore when her mother broke into big, uncontrollable sobs and was only standing because of her husband's outstretching arm. She slipped out of the huge hall.

----------

The sky was a pretty mix of different shades of orange and purple when Ginny stepped out onto the vast veranda, the setting spring sun stretching her shadow across the marble floor. She took a deep breath of the crisply cold air, and as soon as she did, she noticed that she wasn't alone.

Someone was behind one of those towering pillars. She could not see him from here. A bit annoyed that someone was here earlier than her, she strolled slowly to the front of the terrace. Placing her arms on the elaborately decorated parapet, she took in the breathtaking scenery. The ceremony was taking place in a castle at the countryside, one of the many in Britain that seemed to be abandoned but was in fact used sparingly by the Wizarding community. She looked over the meadow below, which was extended in every direction. On the horizon, Ginny could make out some vague mountain ranges. Lights started to appear at the feet of them. _There must be a town there,_ she thought absently.

Turning her head slightly, she tried to see who was standing behind her. There, twenty feet from her, was a tall man in a long, black coat. She turned a little more, afraid that he might notice. However, at closer inspection, she saw that there was no such worries. The man was leaning against a pillar, supporting his weight with only one leg, his head was lowered and his arms folded. He was obviously deep in thought.

As if he suddenly felt the heat of her gaze, the man looked up and into Ginny's eyes. Her lips parted slightly, startled, when their gazes locked. It was Neville.

A small smile spread over his round face, and he slowly walked over and stood next to her. Putting his arms on the parapet like Ginny, he leaned forward a little and seemed to be mesmerized totally by the view. A silence settled itself between them.

Ginny studied him furtively. He looked like his old self: his auburn hair combed back neatly, his round face sat on his broad shoulders, his dark brown pupils focusing on a nonexistent point somewhere on the horizon- most people took this as a sign of inattentiveness, but Ginny, from her experience with him in the DA for the past two years, knew how deceptive his eyes could be. Neville was the kind of person who would sit there, smiling all the time, and just when you thought he was not listening, he would give you the conclusion or advice that you needed.

However, he looked even more contemplative today than usual. Ginny closed her eyes briefly in shame. The aura of sadness that was radiating off Neville was undeniable. _And I am the cause of it. _Neville had lost one of his best friends because of her foolishness. Not only this, she had also betrayed his trust, and he protected her despite everything. He had been hurt, and could have been killed. _All because of me. Me, me, me! _She collapsed after Draco had left, and when she woke up she was in the St. Mungo's. She knew that Neville was staying in a room down the hallway, but she never had the heart to go and pay him a visit. This was the first time they met since the war.

"I, eh, it was, eh-" she pointed awkwardly to the hall from which she exited. She felt that she needed to say something, but she seemed to have lost the ability to string a coherent sentence.

"Suffocating," he offered, turning slightly to her and smiled.

"Yeah, th-that's what I wanted to say," she nodded, feeling like an idiot.

"How've you been?"

"Fine," she smacked herself mentally. He was trying to make conversation, hadn't she something better to say than 'fine'?

Neville didn't seem to mind, and turned back to the beautiful twilight in front of him. Never one who talks too much, he was content with just standing there, in the fresh spring wind and her company. Ginny, on the other hand, searched frantically in her head for something to say. There was something that she wanted to express, but-

"How did you get away?" When her mouth opened, the question was the first thing that fell out. _No! _She smacked herself again. _That's not what I wanted to say! _And of all the topics that she could have picked, her mouth chose one that reminded both of them of the terrible day.

"By luck," he admitted, his expression serious. "I picked up Emile as the ground carved in, and ran up blindly to the nearest room. It was the first years' dormitory, I guess, and there was no exit, just a window. I enlarged our coats, prayed, and jumped."

Ginny gasped. "You what?"

"I jumped. Both Emile and I," Neville confirmed.

"The tower has to be at least thirty feet tall!"

"Friction," he said. "About nine square feet of drag will slow a falling body up to twenty percent."

Ginny was staring at him now. "And how large were your coats?"

"Large enough for us to survive the fall," he grinned, and was serious again. "We were lucky. The ground was mushy because of the rain. I will never, ever try that any more. Once is more than enough, if you ask me."

She wanted to ask him how did he know that piece of information about falling and friction, but thought better of it. He looked at her intently, as if trying to decide whether to say something or not, and shifted his weight from one foot to another. Finally, he spoke softly,

"Ginny, how _have _you been?"

She looked at him and wanted to tell him that she was fine. She wanted to tell him that she was strong and would not fall, no matter what.

But she did not want to lie.

"I haven't told anyone how I got knocked out. They just assumed that a wild curse bounced off something and hit my back."

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling her eyes grew hot. She lowered her head hastily.

"But it won't be long before people start to notice that Malfoy was missing-"

"I let him go. Sorry." A new wave of guilt washed over her.

"-and it won't be long before people whisper and murmur behind your back," Neville continued as if he hadn't heard her. He patted her shoulder. "I want you to be prepared for that."

"It's all my fault. I let him go."

"No, Ginny, it is not your fault," his voice became stronger. "This war, it is not your fault. You've fought bravely. You've done great. We lose, true, but we lose not because of you. We lose because this is a war, and no one wins in a war. I've lost my parents. Harry. And you, him. You lost him to the Dark, but that's not your fault."

"I-" his understanding only made it worse.

Before Neville could say anything more, a voice injected from behind them.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Longbottom."

They turned to see their Headmaster. From the noises coming from the great chamber, it seemed that the ceremony was over.

"Mrs. Weasley suggested that I might be able to find you here, Ginny," said the old wizard kindly. He looked a bit worn out, but that was no surprise seeing the number of ceremonies and meetings he had to hold and preside for the past two weeks. There was still a spark behind his spectacles, though, and when he nodded to Neville, there was a hint of a smile on his lips, albeit a tired one at that. Neville nodded back and swiftly left.

The pair stood in silence as they watched the tall form of the young wizard disappeared behind the glass doors. Ginny gazed at the tiles on the floor, realizing that she, unlike Harry or even Ron, was seldom alone with the Headmaster. He had talked with her after the incident in her first year, but that was about it.

"Ginny," Dumbledore cleared his throat and began. "I am sorry for what happened to Harry. I couldn't have done anything to prevent the prophesy from happening."

She examined his face, then shrugged. She knew that she couldn't possibly stay angry at the wizard for too long- besides, it was not his fault.

_It was mine._

"I know," she told him. "I am not angry at you, sir."

"I am glad," he answered, sounding genuinely relieved. Then, pausing for a moment, he said, "there's something that I need to ask of you, Ginny."

"What is it, sir?"

"You are the only one who were there when Harry and Voldemort dueled, that was _alive._"

"You want me to give you an account of what happened."

"I know that is a lot to ask of you, but yes, please do tell me what happened."

"What about Neville?"

"Mr. Longbottom did not arrive the battle scene until, I suspect, it ended," Dumbledore answered. "He came into the Hospital Wing with Miss Harrison in his arms. I was in there, sustaining a few of the more fatally injured students. He rushed back out right away, but I wouldn't think he made it in time."

"He didn't," replied Ginny, and so she began retelling the battle, her recurring nightmare.

----------

"-and Harry came running to me, and threw himself at me, knocking me down, then- then everything went black."

Dumbledore handed her a white handkerchief. She touched her face and it was wet. She hasn't realized that she was crying until now.

"It's alright, Miss Weasley," the Headmaster touched her head. "I am sorry that I have to do this. You've shown a great deal of tolerance to an old man's vile request."

Ginny shook her head, making her head of red hair jump and gleam in the late sun.

"Is there anything else that you would like to tell me?" He asked gently.

She considered for a moment, and shook her head again.

"No. Nothing at all."

----------

A/N: I am back. Resurrected. Let's hope I won't die again in the near future and stay tuned for the updates I am going to unleash upon all of you! Yessssss, feel my POWER! Mwahahahahahaha!!!! ahem Please read and review, and anonymous reviewers, please leave your email if you wish to be on my mailing list.


	7. Still in the dark

Disclaimer: Once again, none of this but the plot is mine.

This story is now dedicated to Noriko M. Chijinu, formerly she-who-must-not-be-named, my first ever reviewer. Without her one review I would never have written so many. Thanks Noriko-big kiss-

A/N -agonizing tone- I neeeeeed reeeeevieeeeeeews, I neeeeeed reeeeeeeevieeeeeews...

**Rika Of The Wind: **Oh my-goes and changes Virginia to Ginevra- I just recognized the mistake. Thanks for pointing it out. -winks-

**wizzabee: **Thanks!

**Karri-Granger: **Thanks! English is not my first language, but it is my major, so there. (In fact, I just learned what kudos means today. Yay!)

**lena: **Thanks! Ginny will _not _go dark, but I am not giving away who she will end up with...

-

Chapter 6: Still in the dark

Life has gotten back to normal.

Or as normal as it could be.

What _was _normal? Ginny couldn't seem to remember. For as long as she lived, her world was anything but normal. Or, to put it in another way, feeling You-Know-Who's breath on her neck, living in fear everyday... that was normal. Now that the suffocating veil of dread was lifted from the Wizarding World, she was at a loss of what to feel.

Waves after waves of mourning and celebrating ceremonies later, the Wizarding World found itself moving on again. There were new legislation to be made, new historical documents to be recorded, new memoirs to be written. The mechanism was started once more, with people bursting with a fresh energy. It was the beginning of an era. The Era of the Dark was over, the Era of the Light had come. Witches and Wizards worldwide looked to the future with hope and optimism.

Indeed, the Wheel of Recovery has started moving, rolling forward with increasing velocity. But she did not feel like she was on it. She was left stranded in an endless pit of sorrow and guilt, and as far as she could see, there was no way out.

"Ginny!"

Startled, she jerked up. The heavy book in her lap fell onto the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

"You scared me, Hermione," she bowed to pick up the book.

The other girl regarded her oddly. "Are you day-dreaming again?"

"No," she cast her eyes down carefully, as if she was really interested in the leather cover of the book. "I'm just absorbed in my reading."

"I see," Hermione replied, obviously not buying her story but decided against saying anything. "Don't you have a class now?"

"Oh," Ginny glanced at the grandfather clock sitting at the far corner of the Common Room. "I do. I do." Sliding the book into her already loaded bag, she scurried out of the room, fully aware of Hermione's eyes on her nape.

-

She did not have a class. _But anything to be away from Hermione, _she thought as she shifted the bag to another shoulder. The Head Girl was too intuitive to Ginny's comfort these days. She had caught Hermione watching her pensively, sometimes whispering to Ron. Deep in her heart, Ginny knew that Hermione would not mean her any harm- in fact, the girl was one of her best friends and her gestures lately could be nothing less of heartfelt concern and worry towards Ginny, but that didn't keep them from being unnerving and annoying.

Sighing, she walked into the library. Madam Pince glanced at her from behind her spectacles, but didn't say anything. At this hour, the library was deserted, only a pair of Hufflepuffs were in sight. Ginny strode past them to the back of the library. There, hidden from the librarian's peering glare, was a table. _Their _table. A film of dust has collected on the surface from its lack of use, which gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

She put down her bag, and ran a hand on the table.

"You're early," a voice came from behind. She jumped and turned.

Leaning by the floor-to-ceiling shelf with his arms crossed, was Draco. His lips formed into his usual smirk when he saw her surprised face. "Are you skipping class to see me again?"

"Mr. Malfoy, if I remember correctly, it is you who should be having Transfiguration now," she retorted, not hiding her smile.

"Come," he beckoned with his hand.

She walked over to him and wrapped her hands around his torso, shivering a bit as her bare arms brushed his cool silk robes. He placed one hand on her head, gently pressing her onto his shoulder. She snuggled closer, content in his arms, and breathed-

A lungful of stuffy air rushed into her, filled with the scent of dust, old parchments and ink. Her eyes snapped open. In front of her was their table, and an empty hallway. A gust of emotion ran through her, leaving her cold and empty as the hall. She squeezed her lips tighter and sat down.

She remembered how this place looked like, the exact way the sunlight shone through the window, projecting long squares on the floor. But it was the familiarity of the smell that brought back the memories. She sniffed again, and thought that she could catch a lingering scent of Draco's aftershave, the smell on the side of his neck. She would look up and see tiny hairs behind his ear, and his cheek almost dyed orange in the light, and his eyes-

_Stop! _She pulled an abrupt halt to her train of thought, and buried her face wearily into her hands. _Hallucination is the first step to insanity, _she thought dryly. However, there was nothing she could do. All that was on her mind recently was Draco- not that it wasn't this way before, but now... it was different. He was no longer around to reassure her, to strengthen her, to satisfy her yearning, to soothe her pain. Without him, she was at a loss. Just like a puppet without its puppeteer.

Since when has she allowed herself to be controlled? By a Malfoy, no less. Malfoy, Weasley; Slytherin, Griffindor. These words have lost their meaning and therefore, their power to her long ago.

_Not to him, apparently._

A dark, hooded figure entered her mind. A pair of steely, silver eyes gleamed behind the mask. His voice, cold but permeated the place like molten lava, called to her. "Come, Ginny," it said. So familiar yet so strange. Who was this man? Was he truly Draco, the Draco that she knew? The Draco that was loving and funny and full of integrity? The Draco that was so in love with her?

And how could he bear the thought of being away from her? For the umpteenth time Ginny wondered whether he was feeling the pain she was feeling. He had to be, simply because of the fact that he loved her. Or did he? She dared not venture into that question, it might just be too much for her to handle.

Suddenly a fluttering sound came from under her chair, providing a welcoming distraction and saved Ginny from herself once again. She glanced down and retrieved a copy of the Daily's Prophet. It was from the day before. Someone must have left it behind.

Her breathing hitched when she saw the big block letters of the headline: **Malfoy Mansion Searched and Sequestered**, and a smaller caption beneath read:_ No Sign of the Prestigious Purebloods_. How did she miss this? Then again, her heart just wasn't in the newspaper lately. Deciding not to ponder this further, she delved into the article.

"...A month after Lucius Malfoy's sudden withdrawal of duties from the Ministry, and his subsequent disappearance (and later, his family), the Minister of Magic finally obtained the permission from the Wizengamot to search the Malfoy Mansion located in Wiltshire yesterday. With the necessary warrant in hand, fourteen Aurors arrived the mansion at around six and began the search...

"According to a young Auror, who would remain unnamed, 'everything is mostly intact, like the family has gone out for dinner... but no one is in sight.'

"In the study of Lucius Malfoy, important records were discovered, among these the personal journal of the alleged Death-Eater. It revealed that one of the Ministry's most influential personnel for over fifteen years, the senior Malfoy has indeed once been He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's minion. However, the latest entries showed that recently the late Dark Lord was suspecting him of treachery, and the man feared for his life...

"A lone, frightened house-elf by the name of Kreacher was left in the house. From his stuttered and broken speech, it was derived that Lucius Malfoy, along with his wife Narcissa (40) and his son Draco (17), had been brought away from the manor the night before the Final Battle. The Ministry believes that the Malfoys were killed before, and did not participate in, the Battle...

"Though with great reluctance, the Head Goblin of Gringotts agreed to open the Malfoy's vault when presented the warrant. It was found to be, to the Ministry's surprise, almost empty. It appeared that the Malfoys had been spending most of their inherited fortune on their extravagant style of living...

"And so, to quote genealogist and pure-blood activist Felicia Nott, 'another fine line of our sacred legacy deceased, another flame put out... tonight we mourn for the Wizarding World's and our loss.'"

Ginny was about to read on when she noticed someone was coming her way. The slight shuffling behind her suggested that whoever it was, this person wasn't too eager to speak to her just yet. Having no problem with that, she fixed her eyes on a speck of old ink on the table.

"Ginny."

She spun to face Hermione and Ron, who was placing a hand gingerly on Hermione's waist.

"Hi, Hermione," she pulled her lips into a tiny smile. "Take a seat."

The older girl did not move. Instead, she inhaled heavily and looked into Ginny's eyes. Sensing a tough discussion was coming her way, Ginny stood up and furtively braced herself, not removing her wary pupils from the pair.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione stopped fidgeting finally and cried. "We need to talk."

"I am under the impression that we are already conversing," Ginny raised an eyebrow but nearly bit the tip of her tongue off. _Must stop resorting to sarcasm when upset, _she made a mental note to herself.

"That's not what I mean," _and you know that very well, _Hermione's eyes flashed, conveying the clear message of no nonsense. But somehow, Ginny found Hermione's bossy self to be more amicable at this point. This, at least, was familiar.

"Do tell, wha-" she froze abruptly as her eyes followed the two's lines of gaze and landed on the newspaper on the table. It was too late to do anything. She looked back up at them blankly.

Hermione snatched the paper up. From her tight grip on it, Ginny could only presume that she had already read the news. "This," the older girl shook the paper slightly in Ginny's face, with an expression suggesting that it was Ginny that she wished to shake. "Is over. Over, as in finished. Past tense."

"I know what over means," Ginny snarled defiantly, taking a step back and leaning against the table for support.

"You have to handle this, Ginny-"

"And I can handle it myselfthank you very much," she interrupted icily, her stare fixed at some point behind them.

"Do you really think you can mourn in self-pity a-and, _languish _here forever?" Hermione blurted, her eyes growing red. "Have you thought about us, your family, your friends? Have you-"

"What would you understand about how I feel?" Ginny turned her burning eyes back on them, looking from Hermione to Ron. "The loss, the horrible emptiness inside me... what would you know about it?"

"Harry is our friend too, you know," Ron snapped, pulling the now sobbing Hermione closer. Ginny watched and curled her lips into a sad smirk.

"You would never know," she whispered, more to herself than to them.

"Then tell us," Hermione said forcefully. "Then tell us what it is like. Tell us what you are feeling. Just d-don't withdraw from us, Ginny."

She stared at the tears on her friend's face. The plead beneath Hermione's words was simply too much.

"Talk to us," the Head-girl urged quietly, sounding very different from her usual logical self. "Oh, I don't care how- cry with me, at least!"

"Why are you doing this to me?" She shrieked, oblivious to her rising voice.

"Ginny!" Ron said warningly.

"Leave me alone!" With that she ran away, ignoring Madam Pince's startled glare as she dashed out of the library. She kept running, never pausing to acknowledge that need to weep at the back of her mind for the first time in three weeks, for she knew once she started to cry, she would never be able to stop.

-

Her lack of exercise was doing her no good, Ginny mused as she walked past the Quidditch field hyperventilating. She certainly did _not _hyperventilate when she played Quidditch every other day in the past. She thought about grabbing a broom right now, but decided against it. Flying in an emotionally distressed state would not be the most sensible thing to do.

She continued her walk around the grounds, not in the mood to go back into the castle and face the world yet. She had snapped, just like that, not to mention at Hermione. All her efforts in the past weeks to contain her feelings were down the drain. Her best friend and her brother were no doubt convinced that she needed some major help now, and later, her entire family would too, when they hear what happened. The mere thought of one worried father, one worried mother and six worried brothers circling her, firing questions and feeding advices, gave her a headache. She shook her head in an attempt to clear the scary image. She would have time to agonize over that later.

Looking up, she realized that she had paced to the back of greenhouse five without knowing it. She glanced casually inside, and through the glass saw, to her surprise, Neville. From where she stood, Ginny could only see that he was hunching over a workbench working on something. Most of him was hidden from view by the thick, bushy leaves of the plants all around him.

She crept to the side of the greenhouse and pushed on the backdoor. It was not locked. Slipping into the glass structure, she was immediately hit by a warm, moist air. The scents of different plants have mixed together into a fragrance that Ginny hadn't quite smelled of before. She looked around her. It was like she has stepped into a jungle- countless exotic plants surrounded her, many she never encountered. She gaped at a beautiful pot of plant sitting near the door- it looked amazingly alive with its waving orange tentacles. She moved closer to inspect it.

"I would not touch that if I were you," a gentle voice came from behind. Ginny took her hand back hastily and turned to face Neville.

"I- uh, I didn't mean to- I mean, I didn't see you coming," she said sheepishly.

"That is the Firetrap," Neville said, wiping his hands off a towel.

"Firetrap?"

"It also has a very sophisticated Latin name, but do you really want to know that?" Neville smiled, and walked over to her. Picking something from a blue bucket besides the Firetrap, he threw it into the plant. With a snap, one of its fat tentacles grabbed the something and devoured it with means that Ginny could not see.

"Flesh-eating," shrugged the boy as Ginny edged away from the dangerous plant. "Poisonous, too, but darn useful in many drugs."

"Do you work with deadly plants everyday, Neville?" She asked, eyeing her environment with a newfound wariness.

"No, no," he chuckled lowly, walking back to his workbench. Ginny followed. "I don't work in this greenhouse often, although I would hope to. Greenhouse five is the most intriguing greenhouse of all."

Resolving not to question how he defined 'intriguing,' she looked at the several pots on the bench in interest. "What are these?"

"Oh, just an experiment I am working on," he replied dismissively, trying to hide a blush. "I am trying to cross-breed Mimbulus mimbletonia and Puffapods. You know, to make them grow faster and easier."

Ginny nodded, but naturally she did not know. She marveled at Neville's ability- and change- again, as she had tirelessly done in the past two years. She wondered how much more he hid beneath that calm, if not a bit shy, surface. She observed as the tall boy, now almost six feet and rivaling Ron, bent back to work. He was using a small spade to dig up one of the grayish plant, skillfully avoiding the boils on it. Tenderly he set the plant in another pot, and began to fill it with soil.

"You love it," she stated when she saw the look of concentration etched on his slightly chubby face.

"Love what?" He asked, brushing a bead of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

"What you're doing," she replied, plopping her elbows on the workbench and placing her face on both her palms.

"Herbology?" Seeing her nod, he smiled and focused once more on his work at hand. "Well, it's hardly magic, is it? It's the only thing I am good at."

"That's not true," she protested and stood up straight. "You're one of the best wizard at your age that I know, Neville. Both magic-wise and character-wise."

Neville kept the small smile on his lips, but did not say anything.

She put back her elbows on the table. Looking at his contented face, she said, after a while, almost in jealousy, "I wish I'm like you."

"Like me?" He raised his brows like this was the first time he had heard such an idea. "Why?"

"Do you know what you are going to become?" She answered with a question.

"An apprentice of Professor Sprout," he replied without thinking. "Then, hopefully, a professor and a researcher myself."

"That's right, Neville," she said bitterly. "You know what's going to happen to you. I don't. And you like what you do. I don't. I don't even know what I am doing," she laughed a little despite herself. "I never thought I'd say this, but I really miss Snape. At least I like Potions then."

"I have heard the new Potions professor is..."

"A bore," she interjected bluntly.

"That bad?" He raised his very thin eyebrows again.

An idea hit her suddenly. She exclaimed impulsively, "I know! I will drop Potions and join you in Herbology!"

"Drop-"

"At long last, I will be freed from that pathetic excuse of a professor," she ranted on. "And if I can't catch up with Herbology, I can always ask you!"

"Ginny, you are not dropping Potions halfway through sixth year," Neville cut her short loudly. Then, in a mellower tone, he said to the bewildered girl in front of him, "it is just not done. You have to stay in Potions."

"B-but why?"

"Because," he started slowly, as if explaining to a child, "you are a Griffindor. And Griffindors don't quit. They carry on with what they started till the very end."

She looked into his coffee pupils, sensing behind them a seriousness on his part. He was telling her something profound, something that he personally believed in and lived up to. She blinked. A small voice in the back of her mind wondered idly why would anyone ever take Neville lightly.

Seeing that she has calmed down, Neville turned away embarrassedly, his face tinting pink once more. He was back, Ginny thought. The timid boy she has known since a first year was back. And she did not know which one she preferred- this, or the man he has grown into for the last two years? Then again, they were both parts of him.

"But, erm," he cleared his throat and flashed her a nervous grin. "You can always come down to the greenhouses. I can tell you more about the botany here and I really need someone to help me around... you'll be surprised by how much calmness being amidst the green can bring."

_Oh, that I can definitely use some, _she thought as she consented

-

A/N: As usual, anonymous reviewers please leave your e-mail address to be on my mailing list. I need your reviews! Be good and go make my day! My Valentine's one-shot is pretty well-received, so you may want to check that out too (and my other stories, of course ; ) Okay, I am done with my shameless advertising. REVIEW!


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